


Diaries Of Pompeii

by ironmess



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Coming Out, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hollywood AU, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, News Media, They're Doing A Movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-10-28 05:29:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironmess/pseuds/ironmess
Summary: Tony Stark was the most prominent actor of his generation. At least until too many drunk scandals erased him from every director's phonebook. Now, after a few years of small cameos and insignificant roles, he's casted in Carol Danver's new film. She believes in him, but they need someone to balance out his bad reputation. Someone like Steve Rogers.





	1. I'm working with HIM?

Tony loved dreaming. He just drifted through the air, weightless. Flying. No pain, no suffering. No alcohol or drugs to numb his head. He wasn't the child prodigy or the Oscar nominee. He wasn't a disastrous young actor with too much money and too much attention. No, when he dreamed he was free. Happy.  
Most of the time, he was aware of the dream. He could control everything. Make his feet run a thousand miles per hour or just stretch his arms and fly. That’s why the hard, angry sound felt so out of place. Tony tried to wish it away, but it just got stronger, ripping through the fabric of his reality.  
He woke up alarmed, all at once. The apartment buzzer was ringing without pause. He groaned and tried to ignore it. His head was killing him.  
20 seconds passed and the buzzer still rang throughout all the apartment. His plan was failing. For a moment he thought that sound just might kill him. Oddly, the thought seemed funny. The great Tony Stark, movie star and Hollywood’s eternal playboy, found dead at 37 because of a stupid alarm.  
He slowly got himself out of the bed. On foot at the time. He couldn't remember exactly what he had to drink yesterday, but apparently it was strong. His apartment was huge. Usually he loved it. But right now, thinking about how the buzzer was placed all the way back in the kitchen, he sort of wished he wasn't a pretentious douchebag. The walk felt eternal.

“I'm sorry, Mr Stark isn't available at the moment. Please be gone,” he spoke to the machine. His voice was rougher than he expected. The tiny screen showed a pretty woman with the most eccentric yellow dress he’d seen. Jan.

“Tony! Let me in. I have something big to tell you,” tiny Jan said, her enthusiasm palpable even though the mechanic filter.

“I only receive news on tuesdays I'm sorry.”

“It is tuesday you moron. Let me in!!”

Shit. He was sure it was saturday. It sure felt like saturday.  
He buzzed her in, defeated. Dragging his feet through the wooded floor he went to the living room. On the way over he grabbed a robe that was laying on top of one of his chairs and put it on. Boxer briefs weren't exactly hosting clothes.  
Jan had been his manager since he switched companies, a little after Delusion. He was being screwed over, treated like a child and in some cases, even harassed. Everyone wanted to represent America’s most promising actor, even if they hated him. Jan was different. She was a friend. He met her in a four week long cruise through Brazil and they clicked instantly. Tony hated the cooperative approach of his former agent and Jan understood that instantly. Stane always searched for the biggest paycheck, begging him to do more commercials and brand endorsements than actual roles. Jan tried to offer him projects she knew he would like, not only cell phone deals.  
But lately they haven't had much luck. After Tony’s 7th drunken scandal 5 years ago, no self respecting director wanted him near them. He could only get small cameos and guest star appearances. It was driving him mad. Granted, with all the money he made in his twenties he could live out his life without working a single day more. But Tony loved acting, loved keeping his mind busy. Not working meant not acting and that lead to hours of boredom and in most cases, alcohol.

"I am the world's best agent," said Jan, opening the door with a bang. Tony settled down in his comfy oversized couch and just muttered a weak "Hi Jan."

Jan took out her coat and threw it at the table amongst her bag. Then, as if she owned the place, went straight the the kitchen.

"Seriously I cannot stress how much you're gonna owe me for this," she yelled over the sound of the coffee machine. "I'm talking huge Christmas bonus level."

"Okay I'll bite. What is it?" asked Tony, stretching himself on the couch. God, it was too early. Or he was just too hungover.

"So, you're familiar with Carol Danvers' work, right?" she asked, appearing again at the living's door frame."I think you've met her, in fact."

"Yeah, yeah I did. At that after party for Nat's film. She's really cool," said Tony, scratching his head.

Jan hummed and went back to the kitchen. Carol Danvers was a young director, but she had a lot of promise. Her movies were inspired and creative, always bringing something new to the picture. Natasha had introduced them after the premier of their latest movie, Sunsent, a small but delightful film they did together. Tony wasn't too drunk at the party and he ended up having a great time with Carol. She was smart and witty, they played really well off each other. She respected him but didn't allow him to walk all over her. He liked her.

"Well she's doing a big job now. I'm talking huge numbers," said Jan, returning finally with two cups of coffee. She placed one in Tony's hands, which he was grateful for. Then, she layed back on the opposite end of the couch.

"I thought she was more into the indie scene," he responded, drinking half the cup in one go. He had two needs in this life: coffee and attention.

"She is, but she wants to make this big period piece so she needs the money," she said, nursing her cup and not quite drinking it. "Which is why she partnered up with Paramount.”

“No way.” said Tony, genuinely surprised. Carol was a simple artist, she focused on the characters and the plot rather than the big flashy effects. “What is it about?”

“Some sort of retelling of a Roman tragedy. I'm not sure yet, but they’re gonna shoot it in Europe. And guess who’s producing it?”

“Who?”

“Pepper Potts!” she exclaimed, bearly containing her smile.

“You’re kidding me!”

Pepper was undoubtedly one of the best producers Tony has ever worked with. Hell, she was probably on of the best producers ever. She was professional, hardworking and took no shit from anyone. The set was always impeccable and she made sure everyone was on their top game. They had started on a rough patch way back in 04’, with Tony’s first blockbuster movie Countdown. But after a few beers and a mutual understanding, they started working like a clock machine. They also started sleeping together. She got him in check and even managed to keep him sober most of the production. Tony’s best works had been with her. They were a great team, made six movies together. But after Tony fell out of Hollywood’s approval they had a big fight that ended their partnership, professional and otherwise. They were on good terms now, but things were different. She was on the cusp of her career, landing better and better jobs. He was thoroughly unemployed.  
If she was producing Carol's movie, then it meant business.

"No, she's really in it. I bumped into her at the coffee shop. You know the one right by Boulevard 3rd? Well she said she was very happy about it and looking for a high profile actor to play one of the leads. And I said your name!" she was practically yelling at this point, eyes huge with excitement.

Tony put down his cup. This was a big opportunity for him. A lead role in a big Paramount movie was exactly what he was aching for. But he learned not to get his hopes up any more.

"What did she say?" he asked, trying to keep his tone in check. Pepper wouldn't let their past relationship damage the movie. The question was if she thought Tony would damage it or not.

"She liked the idea so much she called Carol an hour later. She's on board, she thinks you're perfect for the job."

"Really?!"

"Yeah!" said Jan, but her smile fell a moment later. She adjusted her posture. "The only problem is the studio."

Tony groaned loudly and fell back into the couch. It was always the same. Someone really wanted to work with him but for one reason or another, he was vetoed. He hated big commercial studios for this exact reason. They were more concerned about their image and box revenue than actually making art. They had discarded Tony as "extremely difficult to work with" five years ago and he couldn't get a decent job since.

"Those motherfucking assholes love to be a pain in my ass. Shit!" he sweared, setting the cup on a table with a plum.

"Don't worry baby, you think I would come here empty-handed? I've got a plan!" she said, getting up. "In fact, it's set into motion now. Get dressed, we're going out."

* * *

Tony's head still hurt. He ached for a glass of wine more than anything. But that was the exact opposite of what he needed right now.  
They were waiting for Carol and Pepper at a fancy dinner. The typical LA place with the fashionable designed chairs and round white tables. There were plants and modern art everywhere. Tony was glad he was rich, because there was no way someone normal could afford even a cup of tea here.  
He cleaned up well, put on a sober blue suit and a black shirt underneath. He needed to sell the professional actor look, not the hungover mess he truly was.

“Carol! Hi, darling" he greeted her, standing up when the two women arrived. Carol was dressed lovely but simple as always, with clear jeans and a long dress shirt. He gave her a soft peck on the cheek and turned to Pepper, who was rocking a soft pink suit that made her eyes pop. “Pep my love, always a pleasure.”

“Tony. I see you haven’t changed a bit,” she smiled, sitting down on the booth they’d reserved.

“Well you know what they say. Talent keeps you young,” he answered, winking at her, “though I’m sure you already know.”

Carol laughed at him. She wasn’t so used to his relaxed persona as Pepper and Jan were. Tony liked her. He could keep the asshole attitude in check by now.  
Carol and Jan exchanged a brief, cordial salute and they all sat down.  
They ordered some coffee and a few biscuits. Jan had told him about the meeting in the car. They were supposed to meet first with Carol and Pepper to plan the attack on the studio’s agent, who was going to come in after. Carol seemed firmly decided that she wanted Tony for the role. She explained that the character was this bigger than life merchant with a kind heart but a shit ton of flaws. Tony had that easy, confident charm that was surely going to bring nuance to the character. The only problem was that the studio had told her no.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie. We all know what your reputation is. I’m not afraid to work with you but these guys aren’t loving the idea,” she said, parting in half a biscuit. “So we need to show them that you’re a lovable asshole that can act professional.”

“I am a lovable asshole and I can act. Isn't that enough?” he answered simply, trying to make a joke. Being called out made him uncomfortable.

“Tony. We’re serious. We’re willing to put our necks on the line for you. We need you to, at least today, act like a human adult,” said Pepper, staring him down.

Tony looked away. They were right. He used to prance around Hollywood not giving a fuck about anything. But that had gotten him fired, beaten up, drunk and worst of all, expelled from the industry. So if this was his big comeback, he needed to put the effort in it.

“I will,” he said, trying his best to sound earnest. “I promise. No alcohol, no dicking around, no pissing of studio representatives. I’ll be on my A game. You can count on me.”

Carol smiled and Pepper nodded, pleased with the answer. They continued to talk about the movie. The best thing about Carol was the energy she had. She was a really young director, but with only 27 years she had already made 2 critically acclaimed movies. One of them even won an Oscar. It was transparent that her whole heart was being put on this project and Tony couldn't be happier about it. He loved working with people with vision, not just money grabbers.  
They were going to shoot for about 9-11 weeks on Scotland. It was a good enough Roman look alike with the best accessibility. Tony would fly in on the summer and start filming right away. There was already a script so Carol told him a little about the plot. It was about a community set in Pompeii the day the volcano erupted. She didn't want flashy effects or big scenes of chaos, she wanted to explore the human condition in that situation of crisis. Tony would be the one of the three protagonists, a man who lost his family before the movie took place.  
Nat would be also be involved. She would be another one of the protagonists, Tony's character's best friend.  
The more Carol spoke about it, the more he wanted to work with her. His character would have to go through some rough times and it was up to Tony how could he interpret that. He was a very ad lib performer, he felt more comfortable when he could bend some of the lines. Scripts felt too constricted, too narrow. Tony loved to get into character and really get into the man's head. He had had a lot of problems in the past for this, a lot of proud directors telling him to cut the shit and say the lines, almost like an automaton. Carol liked to see what her actors had to offer. Tony felt this partnership could really work.  
The only problem was the studio. The agent was supposed to arrive in a few minutes. Tony felt nervous about it. He knew deep inside that for this to work, he had to essentially be sell himself as someone else.  
The representative arrived at exactly six p.m., two hours after Tony met with Pepper and Carol. He was a tall (so tall) handsome man around Tony's age. Dressed in a smart, black suit. The whole image yelled expensive.

"Mr Killian, a pleasure to meet you," greeted Carol, standing up to shake the man's hand. Killian took it and gave her a kiss.

"Please, call me Aldrich. The pleasure is all mine," he said, flashing a big, fake, smile. Tony instantly decided he hated the guy.  
Carol nodded, too surprised (and Tony would bet, disgusted) for anything else. She sat down again next to Pepper and Killian took the empty chair.

"I'm very glad you could meet us today, Aldrich" started Pepper, conjuring a charming smile out of nowhere. Tony knew Pepper's honest smile intimately, and this was nowhere near it. "These are Janet Van Dyne and Tony Stark, but I'm sure you already know."

Killian looked at Janet and gave her a small nod. Then he looked at Tony. Stabbing his eyes at him.

"Aldrich Killian," he presented himself, looking at Tony from head to toe. Sizing him. "I'm a big fan of your work," he lied.

Tony was a good actor. Scratch that, he was a great actor. He could pretend to be smitten by this arrogant guy with his condescending demeanor.

"Oh please, I'm nothing without a good team. And this team right here is the best you can ask for," he said, smiling wide and bright.

"Oh I can ask for a little bit more," said Killian, following it with a sharp laugh. The women besides him laughed too, dissipating the tension. Tony closed his mouth tight. Nothing he could said would benefit him.

"I'm sure you've read the movie's pitch. Carol has a great vision and has asked for only the best," started Pepper. Right to it. That was her style. "Which is why I'm here. I can assure you, this picture has a lot of promise. The expected-"

"Oh I'm sure it has promise," said Killian, interrupting her. Pepper frowned a bit, but didn't respond. "In fact, I think it will be a great success. That's why we got involved. That's why he can't touch it."

Tony shifted, uncomfortable. Killian was looking at him again. Staring. He was told not to respond to any provocation, so he stayed quiet.

"Mr Stark is a three times Academy Awards nominee. He is loved by the public and critics alike," jumped Jan to his defense, words flowing effortlessly like a sales pitch. "He can make any movie be memorable and that is what Paramount should be focusing on."

Killian looked at her for about two seconds. Then, as if she didn't exist, he spoke to Carol. "We can call in anyone you want. Lang would be very interested in the role."

Tony repressed a laugh by sipping his already cold cup of coffee. Pepper shot him a glare: behave.

"I'm flattered, but Scott Lang is a comedy actor. He doesn't have the range," said Carol with a polite smile. "This character is witty, emotional, impulsive and kind of a jackass. Who best to play it if not for Mr Stark?" she said with a little laugh.  
Killian smiled, pretending to be amused.

"Miss Danvers, I know you mean well. Stark is a hot, charismatic guy, so he seems like a good choice. But you're new to this industry. You don't know what is like to work with overpaid stars with alcoholic tendencies," deadpanned Killian, looking straight into Carol's eyes.  
Tony swallowed, hard. He was dangerously close to spitting on the guys face. He knew Hollywood had little to no respect for him nowadays. But this straightforward attack was too much. Sure, he might have a problem. The sour taste of wine at the back of his throat was insistently suggesting that. But he had kept to himself all this years without any scandal. When would they let it go?

"Aldrich," intervened Pepper, voice strong." I can assure you Mr Stark is a professional, besides what tabloids may say. I can vouch for him." Tony gave her a quiet smile. Pepper always had his back, even way back when he might have not deserved it.

Killian made a long, dramatic sigh. He then watched every woman individually, calculating his next move.

"I'm gonna be honest with you," he said, staring at Carol again. Maybe he thought she was the weak link. "Paramount pictures can't be the face of a celebrity scandal. This movie will never be household friendly if Tony Stark is the main character. People may like his movies, but they sure as hell don't like him."

Tony had had it. Opened his mouth to say whatever insult his mind could conjure but Carol rapidly spoke over him.

"Mr Killian. I know exactly what Paramount Pictures is concerned about. Money," she said firmly. "Tony Stark's comeback after five years is a story you ought to sell. We can do press releases about how he got his act together. We can giggle about the similarities with the character he plays. We can turn around his image to fit whatever marketing strategy you might see fit."

Killian kept quiet, hearing Carol's words with undivided attention. She took it as a sign to continue.

"But I wanna make something clear. This is my movie. Not yours, not Paramount’s, not Tony Stark's. I wrote the script and I'll shoot it. I told you I wanted no studio interference, no demands from the get go. Your people told me I would have full control of the creative decisions. Well, this is a creative decision and I will not bend on it."

Killian opened his mouth to speak, but Carol beat him to it.

"If Paramount won't be able to meet my needs then i'm sure i'll find another studio that will" she finished harshly.

The table became quiet. Tony knew Carol was a fierce director and he suspected she would have asked for full control. But seeing her act so fierce in person made him shiver. He felt humbled. These talented, professional women were risking everything just to work with him. Tony hadn't felt special in years. He was starting to now.  
Killian took a moment to compose himself and then smiled again. Only this time he looked defeated.

"Ladies, there's no need to get emotional. Ms Danvers, we knew you were something special. A feisty little woman," he said with a stone cold voice. "Perhaps we can come to a compromise."

A compromise. That was a sign of victory. For the first time since he set foot on the dinner, Tony allowed himself to relax. Maybe things would work out.

"If the studio's concern is about the movie's targeting, we can come with a solution," said Pepper, probably having already thought about this scenario. "Mr Stark has a… strong reputation. We need someone to work alongside him who can counteract that reputation. There's still one of the main characters that hasn't been cast."

"I'm listening." said Killian, taking out his phone to presumably inform his boss of the development.

"We hire someone likeable, charming, a poster boy for good behavior. Someone with class but without arrogance," continued Pepper. "A guy that no one can ever find dirt on."

"And who may that be?" said Killian with a laugh. Carol's eyes lit up.

"I know just the guy."

* * *

Steve wasn't a arrogant man. He was simple. He lived in the same house as always, drove the same car as always and ate pretty much the same meals. But he took pride in his work. At least, in the good parts of his work.  
He was sitting on the small kitchen table of his LA flat. Having already eaten his customary eggs and toast, he felt like he could indulge a little. Steve didn't spend the money he earned with Captain America in buying a luxurious house with more rooms than necessary. He didn't dress in a thousand dollar suit. So he could allow himself to be a little frivolous in other ways.  
Steve had an addiction. He loved reading about himself. So there he was, checking out his name in Google News to see if someone had thought about him. It was a peaceful morning, the sun was shining with quiet modesty and the kitchen window let in some white noise from the street. Steve was content. And then he heard the apartment's door open.

"Stevie!" a voice yelled. Bucky's voice to be more specific.

Steve closed the app and hurriedly hid his phone inside his pocket.

"I'm here!"

Bucky entered the kitchen a moment later with Sam at his heels. They had big grins on their faces.

"Steve, you look flustered. Have you been reading about yourself again?" teased Sam while he took a seat in front of him.

"Ha ha. No. I was just finishing breakfast. There's some eggs in… of course you already noticed."

Bucky shrugged and took the plate to the table, sitting next to Sam.

"What brings you guys here so early?" asked Steve, watching with disgust how Bucky devoured the eggs.

"What? We can't barge in unannounced? We're your best friends." said Sam, taking a hand to his chest pretending to be offended.

"Is not like you're gonna have a girl up here," mumbled Bucky with his mouth full. Steve glared at him.

"Cut it, you guys are worst actors than Justin Hammer. I can see you all puffy and shit."

"Puffy?" laughed Sam. "Is that what they teach you at drama school? Is that the result of your vocabulary training?"

"You are puffy. Your cheekbones are round and puffy" said Bucky, pointing at Sam's face.

"Come one, what is it?" said Steve growing impatient.

"Okay okay..." said Bucky, putting down the fork and composing himself. "First you have to say we are the best managers slash lawyers slash agents slash friends in the world."

Steve sighed and pinched his nose. "You are good managers."

"Close enough. Carol Danvers called," said Bucky, trying to contain his smile.

"Carol Danvers from Sunset? That Carol Danvers?"

"The one and only. She's doing a new movie. A big one."

"And she asked for you!" Sam jumped in, stealing Bucky's moment. He didn't looked pleased about it.

"No way," whispered Steve, eyes round like plates.

"Yeah dude! She said you would be perfect for the role. She hand-picked you man!"

Steve couldn't believe it. Carol Danvers was a critically acclaimed director with an Oscar under her belt. And she asked for him! That was the opposite of what Steve was used to. Ever since he played Captain America all studios wanted from him was a big blockbuster action flick. Yet here was Carol Danvers, a somewhat prestigious director, asking for him specifically? It was nuts.

  
"Well what did you said?" asked Steve.

"That we'll talk to you and call her back," said Bucky, faking a professional voice.

"You idiot! Of course I want to do it!"

"Yeah but you can't seem too eager Steve. We have to fight for your paycheck you know," said Sam, shaking his head. Steve growled, frustrated. They always played around with him.

"Well, tell me more about this movie then. What is it about?" said Steve, getting up to clean the dishes. He couldn't be sitting anymore, he was too anxious to keep still.

"Some sort of Roman drama. You know that Pompeii thing? It's set around that," explained Bucky, stretching himself.

"The volcano?"

"Yeah, the volcano."

Steve hummed and turned on the hot water. His mind went to all the range he could show in this movie. A drama. He never acted in a full out drama. Only in action pieces with dramatic explosions.

"Have they cast anyone else?" asked Steve. If he was hand-picked it meant Carol had a pretty good idea of the direction she wanted to go with. The rest of the cast could already be on board.

"You're gonna love this." said Sam, getting up to grab some juice. "Natasha Romanoff is in."  
Steve nodded, pleased. Nat was a graceful actress, always finding herself in different roles. She had an eye for good movie scripts and had starred in Sunset. Steve had a really good feeling about this film.

"Carol is looking for raw talent," said Bucky, jumping to clap Steve's back. He laughed, humbled.

"Well there's someone else too. Very talented. Very raw," started saying Sam, sipping his juice.

"Yeah? Who?"

"Tony fucking Stark," said Sam, proud of himself.

Steve almost broke the plate he was washing. Tony Stark? The Tony Stark? He haven't heard about Stark since the 2014 scandal. He had been the most promising actor of their generation but threw it all away for booze and fame. Steve never liked the guy. Sure, he grew up watching his movies. He cried with Countdown and A father's tale. But he also saw the news, read the articles. Stark was unpredictable, unstable. He wasn't a reliable work partner.

"Please tell me you're kidding," he plead, turning around to face Sam.

"Of course not. It's legit. Tony Stark has already signed in," said Sam, a little confused.  
Steve crossed his arms. He needed this. He needed a good, serious movie to prove his worth. He was tired of being type casted into bad roles. He was more than a beefy action star. But if Tony Stark ruined the shoot he would lose his chance.

"Lighten up Stevie, what's your problem? You're gonna be working alongside an Oscar nominee. That's way above your usual standards..." said Bucky, hopping on the kitchen counter.

"Tony Stark is an arrogant diva. Impossible to work with," Steve sentenced firmly.

"Have you met him?" asked Sam, raising an eyebrow.

"Well no, but I met people who did."

"Sure. What people again?" Sam inquired, disbelief obvious on his voice.

"You know! People!" said Steve, giving up on the argument. He sat down on the table letting out a sigh. "I guess nothing is perfect."

"Who was the diva again?" whispered Bucky to Sam. Steve pretend he didn't hear him.

They called Carol a few hours later. She responded on the first ring. Steve was excited about the project but after talking to her he felt exuberant. This was it. His jump from crappy movies to real pieces of art. Carol was a young woman with a strong vision. And she believed in Steve. She told him she saw Captain America and that her favorite scene wasn't the incredible jump from a building on fire everyone praised him for. It was the quiet moment after the big battle, where Steve showed who Cap really was. His desires, his dreams. And Carol understood that.  
Steve dreamt that night with the cold Scotland beach and a problematic costar.

Soon enough the table read came. Steve was immensely nervous about meeting the cast. He was used to big productions and overpaid stars, but these were different. These people were cultural, smart. Academy quality. Steve didn't think of himself as a lesser actor, but he had to admit the names on the payroll left him awestruck. Not only Natasha Romanoff was doing the lead but Carol told him James Rhodes was also doing a secondary character. She had pulled every trick she had to assemble the best cast possible. That left Steve dizzy, unbelieving how his name was on the top three.

He hadn’t been able to sleep the night before. He fumbled around in bed, trying every position imaginable to get himself to relax. But nothing worked. So, ever the fanboy, he pulled out his laptop and started watching his co-stars' films. Sunset was a simple yet powerful movie about a small town girl dealing with loss. Nat had really nailed the emotional bits in that one. Steve remembered seeing it a few months before, but now that he knew the same person was going to direct him he shivered. Carol was very talented.  
Then, inevitably, he watched Countdown. Tony Stark’s masterpiece. The movie that marked him as a legend all those years ago. It was as raw and emotional as Steve remembered it. Stark had an ability to act with his whole body, putting grace and charm into every motion. But what knocked it out of the park were his eyes. Those huge, round eyes had mastered every microexpression to form a truly breathtaking performance. Countdown had been a showstopper when it first came out. A tale about a man dealing with addiction in the late 70’s. It had

Tony Stark losing his head, slowly, on camera. It was sad yet with a few flickers of hope. Steve though it was an honest movie. Without the in your face morals of today's flicks.  
Steve watched as Tony’s character, Bruce, gave his last lines just as the sun came up. He wiped the few tears he shed and got up. He might as well get ready.  
The table read was held at a big conference room in Vine Street, a few blocks away from the studios. Steve wore comfortable black jeans and a nice dress shirt. Better be looking good at least.  
Pepper Potts received him as soon as he opened the door. She was a tall, beautiful women with a strong pose. Ever since he got into the industry he heard a lot about Potts. She was the kind of boss you would dream of having, but never dared disappointing. She took no bullshit.  
That’s why her partnership with Stark was so strange. In Stark’s good years, they’ve made at least four films together. Which seemed illogical. Stark was known for being late on set, drinking within takes and picking fights with the crew. The man was chaotic. Why did Miss Potts agree to work with him so many times?  
She introduced Steve to the executive producer, Happy Hogan, and a few of the cast members. He recognized some from Carol’s early movies. They seemed to get along quite well, Carol must’ve kept them close for that reason.

“Hi, you must be Steve,” said a soft, low voice.  
Steve turned around immediately. There she stood, bright as the day. Natasha Romanoff. It was a weird moment for Steve, having seen her a couple of hours ago crying over her dead mother. Now she was there, in front of him, wearing a gray hoodie. It seemed almost comical, the way she dressed so comfortably. She was one of the hottest stars in Hollywood right now, yet there she was. Standing in front of Steve. Wearing crocs.

“Miss Romanoff. It’s truly an honor to meet you,” said Steve trying to compose himself. He was used to dealing with famous people. He was one of them. But it never grew old, meeting new ones. The feeling of pure giddiness never disappeared.

“Oh please, call me Nat,” she said, laughing. “We’re gonna be seeing each other covered in sweat and dirt soon enough, so we might as well get familiar.”

“That I know, believe me,” joked Steve. And he was right, if there was something he grew accustomed to was the sweat. Action movies required a lot of stunts, a lot of running and a lot of choreographed fighting. “I thought a movie with Carol Danvers meant no leg day but I heard we might be running away from a volcano. So.”

“Yeah, no skipping the gym for this one,” said Nat, shaking her head with a smile. “I take it that you haven’t read the script yet?”

“No, no. I like to read it for the first time here. It seems more genuine that way.”

Nat humed, nodding. She was looking at him intensely. For a moment, Steve thought she might be studying him.

“Tony does the same thing,” she said after a moment. Steve raised his eyebrows, surprised. It was the first time someone mentioned Tony Stark. And it had been to compare him to Steve.

“Steve, you’re here!” Carol’s voice called from behind.

Steve turned around to greet his director. Carol wrapped him in a tight hug and gave him a quick peck in the cheek. She seemed happy. Having all her actors in one place was crucial to test the chemistry. With all the people chatting and getting along, she must've felt right.

“I see you’ve met Natasha. My big star.”

“Yes I have, she’s a delight.” said Steve, smiling at her.

“Steve here was telling me he didn’t read the script,” Nat called him out, amused. “Seems to like the freshness of the first time.”  
Carol laughed and patted his shoulder.

“Well, every actor has his methods,” she answered simply. “Creatures of habit, you lot.”

Miss Potts then called them all to their places. The cast wasn't so big, maybe around 15 or 20 people. They sat down on their correspondent chairs. The one beside Steve was empty and read with big black letters “Tony Stark”.

“Is he not coming?” he whispered to Natasha, who was sitting in front of him. She opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of the door stop her.

Twenty heads turned around to see how Tony Stark entered the room. Steve felt immediately starstruck again. Sure, he might think the guy was an unprofessional asshole, but this was Tony Stark. He was one of the best actors of his generation. And he was walking towards him. The legend in the flesh.  
Only every part of the legend seemed true now. Stark was wearing dark sunglasses and holding onto a large Starbucks cup. With messy hair and a long sweater, he looked straight out of bed. He took short, rapid steps and circled the table, mumbling some apologies. He then sat unceremoniously beside Steve and crossed his arms, laying back on his chair .

“Mr Stark,” greeted Steve with a nod.

Stark turned his head to look at him. Or at least, Steve thought he was looking at him. He couldn't see his eyes behind the sunglasses. Then, Stark looked ahead and sighed.

“Okay,” he simply said.

Steve was confused by the answer. But before he could say anything, Carol begun the opening speech.  
Show time.

After a brief introduction between the members of the cast and crew, they got to the script. Steve got into a good mindset fairly quick. He may be bad at networking and getting the good jobs, but this he knew how to do. He knew how to act. So as the words flowed in the air, he felt himself relax. Felix, the character he played, was a straightforward guy. As the scenes progressed, he got to have a good reading on the man. His likes, his story. How Steve would portray him. This part of the process was crucial to him. The first time he met the man he would incarnate was a pivotal moment for his performance.  
But Steve not only focused on his character. Felix was a foreigner who wandered into Pompeii a year before the eruption. The man who opened his arms at him was Stark’s character, Maximus. They quickly became friends and that relationship was the emotional core of final act, where the three protagonists would have to escape the fire. Steve looked at Stark and wondered if they would ever be able to portray something like that.  
The other man was distant throughout the whole read. He looked at the ceiling whenever Steve read and seemed bored if he took too long. His lines were said beautifully, but as soon as he closed his mouth he shut off. He would fall back on his seat and wait without paying attention to anyone else.

“We don’t know what lays behind the mountain,” said Natasha, finishing the script.

Applause erupted, followed by joyful cheering. Steve looked at his coworkers and felt content. This seemed like the start of something amazing.

He stood up, following the rest. He went to chat with James Rhodes who he was excited to meet. While he introduced himself, he saw how Stark made a straight line to the door. Before he could make it, Natasha stopped him. Steve didn't wanted to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help hearing their hushed voices.

“Let me go home Nat, my head is killing me,” pleaded Stark.

“We’re going to grab a cup of coffee with the guys. It’s good for the morale,” she said patting his arm.

“There will be enough bonding exercises in Europe, can’t I get of the hook just this once?”

“Tony...” she whispered, getting closer to him. Steve couldn't see her expression from this angle and didn't manage to understand much else of what followed.

Stark sighed and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. When he looked up, he caught Steve staring at him. He looked tired. The dark circles around his eyes made him appear sleepless. Steve looked away quickly, embarrassed. The only thought that he had besides shame was that Stark’s eyes were more beautiful in person.

“So, you’re coming?” asked Rhodes. Steve tried to reconstruct their conversation but failed.

“Where?” he said. Rhodes laughed and looked away from Steve.

“To the café around the corner. Carol wants us to get along," he said, nodding towards Stark, "to play nice, you know?"

"Oh, yeah! Sure," Steve smiled and followed Rhodes outside.

Los Angeles in the afternoon was a busy place. The chilly air swifted through Steve's collar making him wish he had a scarf. They walked about three blocks until the found a small coffee shop with a somewhat guaranteed privacy. Well, as guaranteed as privacy could be in LA.  
Natasha asked for a table and they settled in a corner booth. Just the main cast had gotten out and Steve was glad for it. Carol and Pepper were great, but they were their bosses. He wanted to get to know his coworkers without that pressure.  
Steve felt himself slip into easy conversation after the first cup of coffee. Natasha was a really warm, welcoming person. She laughed at his jokes and nodded with his stories. Clint Barton, the guy who played Natasha's brother, was simply hilarious. Steve couldn't remember the last time he laughed so hard.  
But there was one person that increasingly made him uncomfortable. Stark spoke only to Natasha and Rhodes and glared at Steve everytime he tried to stir the conversation his way.

"So, Stark. You've been around the longest. Any advice for the new guy?" Steve asked him, offering a kind smile.  
Stark looked up, glasses covering his expression.

"Don't make crappy action movies." he deadpanned.  
The table fell silent, with Tony’s gaze still on Steve. It was an unnecessarily rude comment, but Steve could let it fly.

"Well, that would've been useful a few years ago," he joked, making the tension disappear. Everyone laughed but Stark, who looked like he rather be swallowing acid than being im Steve's presence.

They finished up their coffees half an hour later and Steve didn't try to make conversation with Stark again.  
What was his problem? Steve hadn't been anything but nice to him. He could look past the cold stares and the general disinterest, but they had to work together. To have some sort of bond. Their characters were supposed to be best friends! How could he portray that if the man didn't talk to him?  
So Steve settled for doing the mature thing. Trying to mend whatever was that put them at odds.

"Hey, Stark!" he called after they all left he cafe and said goodbye. "Can you hold on a minute? I'd like to talk."

Stark stopped on his tracks and visibly sighed. Then, he nodded at Natasha to go on without him and turned around.

"What is it, Captain?" he asked, mocking Steve's most famous work.

"Look, I feel like we got of on the wrong foot," he said, trying to be as polite as possible. “So we should just start over. What do you say?

"I feel like we got along just fine," Stark shrugged, putting his hands on his pockets.

"Well, our characters need to get along better than just fine,” insisted Steve.

"Are you doubting my ability to act?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I'm just -"

"Are you doubting yours?" interrupted him Tony, cracking a smile.

"No! I-"

"Then what is it? You're nervous about not being the only guy with lines on the film?" he interrupted again, looking away.

"I've had co-stars before," frowned Steve.

"More like sidekicks" responded Stark with a grin.

"No, more like- what's your problem?" asked Steve, irritated. Stark laughed and shook his head. They were still standing on the street and it was getting late. Steve felt tired, he hadn't slept a thing.

"You're very sensitive aren't you?" Stark mocked him, smile growing wilder.

"No, I just don't like bullies," answered Steve firmly, holding his stance.

"Is that what I'm supposed to be? A bully?"

"Well you're not very friendly either."

Stark took out his glasses and finally looked at him. Steve suddenly felt overwhelmed by his deep stare.

"I'm gonna make myself very clear. I'm here to make a movie. Not to hold your hand and praise your poor choices of delivery," Tony said, spitting every word. "Don't think for even a second that you're anything but an audience-friendly eye candy. Everyone knows where the real talent lays and it's certainly not with the guy that played Captain America five times."

Steve felt enraged. He wasn't going to allow this arrogant asshole talk to him like that. He was trying to make peace with the guy and in response he just snapped. Fine. So be it. Steve could stop playing nice for a change.

"And where does it lay?" he quietly asked. "With a drunk has-been?"

Stark's eyes widened. He put his sunglasses back on and formed a tight line with his lips. Without saying a word, he turned around and left.  
Steve took it as victory. A sour one, but a victory nonetheless.


	2. What's best for us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sexual themes and explicit language. That said and hoping to break the formality, I hope you like it!

Tony loved flying. The whole airport juggle, the scans, the seats, the flight attendants. Everything was a part of a ritual. And it's best part was the take off. He loved the feeling inside his body, the anticipation. The way he felt himself push back into the seat, how his ears felt the pressure. He always booked the window seat to look outside and see how the buildings grew smaller by the second. 

Only this time, he had to fly with a cast member. Specifically, with Steve Rogers. 

Tony wasn't an antisocial guy. He had friends and he cared a lot about them. He threw legendary parties and had slept with half of Hollywood. But sometimes, he felt exhausted by people. They were everywhere, always wanting to talk to him, always getting in his business. Tony sometimes wanted to shut people off and just be by himself. Flying usually involved that quiet, peaceful moment. Only this time it didn't. 

Carol Danvers was a very… methodical director. She had her way of doing things and didn't like to be told otherwise. Tony respected women in positions of power. Hell, he loved women in positions of power and usually ended up in their beds. But Carol’s idea of a professional production was a lot different from Tony’s .She wanted them to bond. 

She said that actors should be comfortable enough to perform intimately with each other. For the atmosphere to be right, the trust in their partners had to be there. Carol had a very personal, one on one approach to directing. She wanted the cast to get to know each other. To get along. 

That’s how Tony ended up sitting next to Steve Rogers. For a 12 hour flight. The plane was enormous and they were in first class (thank God) but the man was gigantic, making Tony feel claustrophobic. What was the need of those muscles? Rogers was built like a fucking tank and his legs bumped into Tony’s every five minutes. 

The encounter with Steve Rogers had been awkward, to say the least. For one, Tony thought he would be flying with Natasha or Rhodey, so seeing him standing there with his broad shoulders and tiny (unfairly tiny) waist, waiting in the check line, was a bummer. He called Pepper right away, begging her to change his flight. She told him to suck it up and stop being a spoiled brat. So he had to prepare himself to fly all the way to Scotland beside a man that probably thought The Matrix was the stepping point of his generation. 

And yeah, Tony had been a dick with him before. Steve probably thought Tony hated him. He didn't. He just hated the idea of what Steve represented. It drove Tony mad that this mediocre actor who starred in horribly uninspired films had better acceptance than him. Tony had almost won an Oscar. Three times. This guy couldn't even win MTV's Best Kiss. And he was supposed to be the studio’s favorite? That was bullshit. In what world did it make sense that this B-list action dummy was a better option than Tony himself? Apparently, in this one. 

"Good afternoon. Thank you for flying with us. Would you like something to drink?" a kind woman said, putting on her best flight attendant smile. 

Steve shifted his whole body towards her. His arms were so buffed he bumped Tony in doing so. First class my ass, this seats were too small. 

"Hi! I would like some lemonade," he asked, using a calm, low voice. Tony almost laughed. For some reason he expected Steve to only drink Mountain Dew. 

"Of course, sir. And you, Mr. Stark?" she said, casually using his name. At this point in life, Tony didn't flinch at people knowing who he was. 

"Bring me the strongest thing you've got," he answered. Smoothly, he extended his arm a put a 100 bill in her suits pocket. She nodded, pleased, and left with the chart. 

Tony felt Steve staring at him. 

"What?" he asked, irritated. They had exchanged about four words in total since they met this morning. 

"Nothing, nothing, is just… isn't a little early to be drinking?" he asked, in what surely tried to be a sympathetic voice. Tony made a bitter chuckle. It just felt condescending. 

"It's not drinking," he said, making air quotes. "It's just something to help me sleep" 

Steve didn't seem pleased with the answer, but he stayed silent. The lady came back a few minutes later and handed them their drinks. Tony’s scotch was wrapped in a napkin with something written on it. A phone number. 

“That happens often to you?” asked Steve, amused. Tony shoved the napkin in his pocket and hid a smile behind his drink. 

“Sometimes, yeah,” he responded, taking a sip. The alcohol’s burn caressed his throat like a sweet remedy.

He relaxed into his seat and closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the silence. The scotch was cold in his hand but everytime it touched his lips, it lit up his mouth. Tony liked that. 

Only his calm atmosphere was ruined by one particular aspect. Or one particular costar. 

“Man, I hate flying” Steve said casually. “I stresses me out, you know?” 

Tony just hummed, trying to be as non responsive as possible without being rude. 

“Do you like flying?” he asked directly. Tony sighed and opened his eyes. 

“Yes, I enjoy the peacefulness. Everyone is always  _ quiet _ ,” he said, put emphasis on the last word. 

Steve seemed to catch on and turned away, wounded. Tony would have felt bad but he couldn't bring himself to care. Steve was a grown man, he could handle being asked to shut up. 

Tony closed his eyes again and slowly fell asleep. The alcohol was nearly gone and he could already feel the light buzz it left. With that numbness, he drifted away. 

He dreamed about a machine that allowed him to fly. It was a recurring dream of his. He could see the whole city under his feet. He could swim between the clouds and fall to the ground without a scratch on. He felt powerful, invincible. 

“Stark,” a voice called in the distance. He looked around, but only the sky looked back. 

“Stark,” the voice said again, shaking him. 

He woke up, all at once. The plane again. Steve was talking to the lady from before, who had brought them their meals. Apparently Steve had ordered for him. 

“I’m sorry, I thought I would let you sleep,” he apologized as the women placed the steaks on the seat’s table. “It was this or fish.” 

“It’s fine.” said Tony, scratching his eyes. Steak was actually his favorite. “Thank you.”

Steve seemed pleased by the kind answer. They started eating in silence once the woman left. 

“God, this is delicious,” commented Steve offhandedly, not really waiting for a response. 

“Yeah, I was starving,” said Tony. “I know we’re not supposed to have that much but man, if we weren't doing a movie I would eat a whole cow.” 

Steve laughed a nodded, waiting until his mouth cleared. 

“If my nutritionist wouldn't kill me for it, I would only eat steak. I mean sure, you can season veggies all you want, but nothing beats this flavor.” 

Tony smiled. With food in his belly he felt a little more predisposed to talk to this real life sized action figure. 

“You know, you have to try Argentinian meat,” he said, fighting to cut the last pieces with the sharpless knife they gave him. “I swear, there’s nothing like it.” 

“Yeah?” asked Steve, transparently happy for successfully making small talk. “I’ve never had it.” 

“Yes, they have this way of cooking meat called  _ asado  _ that will blow your mind,” told him Tony, the memories of that sunny afternoon still fresh in his head. He was shooting in South America and they needed Buenos Aires’s architecture. The crew had invited him and a few others to eat with them on the weekend. He could still remember the taste of the  _ criolla _ .

“How is it?” asked Steve, shoving the last bite into his mouth. 

“They spend the whole morning cooking the meat on the grill and then they spend the whole afternoon drinking wine and eating it. It’s amazing. Like a ritual, almost.” 

Steve smiled, swallowing. Then, he put the fork and knife on the plate and fell back into his seat. 

“If I go over there someday,” he said, looking at Tony with bright, deep blue eyes. “I’ll ask them to invite me to one of this  _ asados _ .” 

“You should,” said Tony, finishing his own meal, feeling a little flustered for some reason. 

They fell back to silence after that. Steve grabbed a book from his bag and buried himself in it. Tony resisted the urge to joke about how he didnt know Steve could read. Maybe in other context he would have, but right now he felt they had reached a truce. 

The hours went by in comfortable silence. The flight attendant came back a few times to flirt with Tony. He thought she was pretty, so maybe sometime around noon he would make a move. He didn't feel particularly eager to fuck on the airplane’s bathroom, but his mood could change. He liked having his options open, so he flirted back. 

“You’re really good at that,” said Steve, putting down his book after the lady gave Tony his second courtesy drink. “Flirting, I mean. She’s practically smitten by now.” 

Tony felt a little surprised by the comment. He wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, just smiling and throwing in a few jokes. Flirting was an easy thing to do when you were famous. 

“You’re telling  _ me  _ that? C’mon, you can have any girl you want with that body,” Tony said, gesturing towards Steve’s chest. And arms. And abs. 

Steve laughed, a little embarrassed by the compliment. “Well, even if that were true, I couldn't do it on an  _ airplane _ .” 

“Why’s that?” 

“They freak me out!” admitted Steve, scratching his head. “I can only think about how we’re 11 thousand feet off the ground, there’s not much room in my head for anything else. 

“You know there’s a lot more chances of-”

“Of dying in a car crash than on an airplane, I know,” he interrupted with a little chuckle. “I know the statistics, but I just feel safer on the ground."

Tony nodded, somewhat understanding. He couldn't help but feel guilty about being the one in a bad mood when Steve was the one terrified of planes. Maybe he should bark less at people. 

“Well, I assure you nothing is going to happen,” he said, patting him in the shoulder. It was a bit awkward, giving their seats. “And I won't tell anyone if you barf.” 

Steve laughed and said thank you. Then, he got back to his book. 

Tony got into a good mood after that. Deep down he knew being a jerk was way less satisfying than actually being nice, but he always seemed to forget it. He finished his drink (another glass of scotch) and thought about putting his good mood to use. 

He told Steve he needed to go to the bathroom and awkwardly stumbled over him to get up. On the way to the plane’s cockpit he tried to iron his shirt with his hands. No use, those small seats were a curse. The flight attendants were sitting on the first row of seats, chatting about something or other. Tony quickly recognized the woman he had been flirting with. 

“Is there something wrong, sir?” the lady asked, pursing her lips. She had nice eyes. 

“Yes, there’s a problem with the bathroom. I think the door is stuck.” he lied, flashing his best smile. “Maybe you could help me?” 

The woman beamed at him, pleased at the request. 

“Of course. Lets go.” 

She lead the way down the aisle. Tony took the opportunity to look at her perky ass. She was taller than him but slimer. That would make fooling around interesting. They passed Steve on the way over. He frowned confused at him. Tony just shrugged and mouthed “door’s stuck” and continued walking. 

“Let’s see what’s the problem.” she said, closing the curtains that divided the place where they prepared the meals with first class. It was small, a few drawers and the door to the bathroom. 

As soon as she closed the curtain, he put a hand around her waist. She turned around and kissed him. Hungrily. He kicked the bathroom door open and took them inside. It wasn't the best place for two full grown adults to fuck, but he was too horny to care. She pushed him onto the toilet, making him sit on the lid. Then, she hurriedly climbed on top of him, kissing his neck. 

Tony flew his hands down her skirt, caressing her on top of her panties. She moaned softly beside his ear and bit it. He reveled at the feeling and used his other hand to bring her lips to his. The kiss was sloppy, but Tony didn't care. He was more focused on pulling down her stockings, which was more difficult than previously planned. She used one hand to unbuckle his belt and another to pull his hair. Tony faintly thought that she was better at this than him. That was weird. She opened his trousers and slipped her hand in, stroking him firmly. Tony felt himself lost in the feeling. Suddenly, he banged his head against the wall. 

"What the fuck?" he mumbled. The floor was trembling beneath him. He saw how the lights flickered against the walls. The room was shaking. 

"It just a small turbulence," the woman said, hand still on his cock and lips on his ear. "There was a storm up ahead." 

"Oh," he said, closing his eyes again. 

His head banged again against the wall and Steve's face appeared on his mind, their early talk slipping through his head. The guy must been terrified. 

"Shouldn't--shouldn't we be sitting down?" he asked her. 

She didn't seem to interested in talking. Her hands went to her blazer, fetching a condom out of her pocket. "We are sitting down." 

Tony nodded, too turned on by this woman who knew she wanted to fuck him so bad she put a condom on her front pocket. She ripped it open, taking it out and sliding it on Tony. He vibrated with anticipation. 

Until his head banged the wall again. 

“Wait,” he said, almost painfully.

The woman stared at him, confused. “I’m not doing this without protection.” 

“No, no.” whispered Tony, grabbing her hands and pulling the condom away from him. “I just can’t do this right now. I’m sorry. My, ehm, friend needs me.” 

She looked at him with disbelief. God, she was so hot. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were tinted red. Grabbing her by the hips and pushing her away was a testament of Tony’s force of will.

“I’m sorry, he was really nervous about the flight and I don't want him alone through this turbulence,” he said, buckling up his pants again. Luckily for him, dress pants were about the most comfortable clothes you could wear with an erection. 

The woman looked embarrassed by the sudden shift in the air. She pulled up her stocking and settled down her skirt. Tony felt bad about leaving her hanging, but he felt Steve might need him right now. 

“Sorry, again. I was really looking forward to this, but I can’t right now,” he stood up, awkwardly shifting her body to open the bathroom door. 

He got to the aisle and the floor shaked harshly. He grabbed onto the overhead bins and made his way towards his seat. He saw the back of Steve’s tense, giant shoulders. 

“Hey,” he muttered softly. Steve looked up and  _ shit _ . It was worse that Tony imagined. His mouth was a thin line, he had his jaw closed shut and his eyes screamed for help. 

Tony passed over his legs and fell back onto his own seat, putting the security belt on. 

“Where were you?” asked Steve, voice tight. The plaine shook again, making him jerk a little. 

“You know, the bathroom,” he said lightly. “What, were you worried about me?” Tony joked. 

He turned around to see Steve’s face and realized that that was exactly the case. Steve looked away, trying to focus on anything but the erratic movement. Tony felt bad but didnt know what to do. 

“Hey, everything's alright,” he whispered, leaning into Steve. The other man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Yeah, I know.” he muttered quietly. “I know.” 

Tony smiled, feeling awkward at his own helplessness. A moment later, the turbulence got worse. The cabin shook violently, making Tony jolt against the window.

“ _ Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking _ .” said the mechanic voice through the speakers. “ _ We are experience some mild turbulence, so please remain calmly in your designated seats. It’ll pass soon enough _ .”

Steve didn't look calm. Not even one bit. 

“See? This is normal, we’re just flying pass a storm.” said Tony, patting Steve’s arm. 

There was another frenetic shake, more potent than before. Before Tony could opened his eyes again, he felt Steve grabbing hard onto his forearm. An electric wave circled through him for reasons besides the turbulence. 

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Steve, letting go of Tony a second later. “This is exactly why I hate flying.” 

Tony gave him a reassuring smile. Then, something in him clicked. He put his hand on the armrest, palm up for Steve to reach. An invitation. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said, softly. 

Steve doubted for a moment but then accepted the offer. He grabbed his hand, looking away. Tony felt achieved. Everytime the plane shook and Steve tightened his grip, he felt like maybe, sometimes, he knew how to do the right thing. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


They landed without major problems. As soon as the turbulence faded away, Steve let go of Tony's hand. Tony was amused by the events of the ride. He expected Steve to be a pain in the ass but he ended up enjoying his company. He wasn't used to being proven wrong. 

After they got their luggage they quietly walked towards the airport's exit. A taxi was waiting for them, their last names neatly written on a white cardboard. 

"Good afternoon," Steve smiled at the man and climbed into the cab, Tony following his lead. 

The ride to the hotel was silent. They were a good hour and a half away, Carol had booked a countryside hotel with close proximity to a few locations. 

“Jeez, I really need to shower.” said Tony, sniffing his shirt. He hoped his european room had at least hot water. He’ve never been to Britain before, so in his mind, anything was possible. 

“Wait… are you….?” said the cabbie with a thick accent. He looked through the mirror and his eyebrows shot up as the realization hit him. “Oh my God you’re  _ Tony  _ Stark!” 

Tony smiled at the man through the mirror and nodded. People had been marvelling at him ever since he was a teenager, but somehow he always felt humbled by it. 

“The one and only,” he muttered, looking through the window. 

“Mate, I have seen all your films. Me wife and I are still mad about those idiots giving the Oscar away to Stephen Strange. You deserved it, man! You should’ve won!” said the cabbie, voice still tainted with anger for a ceremony held 7 years ago. 

“Well, thank you,” answered Tony, amused by the driver’s enthusiasm. “I wish the Academy was more like you.”

They arrived at the hotel shortly after that. Tony took a selfie with the man and he drove away. Steve was looking at him funny the whole way to the front desk. They signed in and headed towards their respective rooms. 

Tony threw his luggage on the bed and went straight to take a shower. Twelve hours of sedentary confinement made him icky. He hated feeling icky. 

He turned on the hot water and moaned when the sprinkle met his skin. He loved simple things in life. Booze, sex and hot water. He could stand beneath it for hours, just feeling the warmth and smelling the soap.

He got out of the bathroom feeling renewed. Scotland was chilly even in the summer, but he felt like prancing around naked for a bit. He didn't have to do anything until tomorrow morning so he could spend the time however he wanted. 

Naturally, he decided to rave the minibar. There weren't that many beverages, just a few beers and a couple of small, one cup size whiskey bottles. Tony would have to make do.

He put on a pair of boxer briefs and grabbed some chips along side the whiskey. He layed back on the bed, turning on the TV and relaxing into his drink. He never had quiet moments like this back home. Somehow the idea of laying in bed all day eating chips felt horrible back in LA. But here, with the European skyline meeting dawn, he felt like doing nothing more. 

So he ate and he drank. Soon enough, the first bottle of whiskey was empty. Then the second. The chips were long gone and his head was spinning, but he thought a little more wouldn't be a problem. So the third bottle was gone too. 

Drunk to his feet, he got up the bed and decided to take a stroll. It was around midnight and the dark horizon felt terribly inviting. He put on a bathroom robe and grabbed a couple more beers. This was a good idea. 

He opened the door, not without difficulties and started marching down the corridor. The hotel was silent, the only sound was the modest whistle of the wind against the windows. He realized he was barefoot when his feet rozed against the rug. It wasn't a nasty rug, so he didn't think it was necessary to put on shoes. 

The hotel was big. Too big and too yellow. Tony felt attacked by the angry colors on the walls. Why were they so bright? He got frustrated by their brightness. How could anyone sleep with these yellow walls? He briefly considered repainting the walls right there, but he didn't have anything to cover up that stupid color. It would have to wait until morning. 

The beer on his hand was getting warm, so he needed to drink it. There were stairs up ahead, a good place to take a break. He walked towards them and sat down on the steps. Well, he mostly fell down, but as the beer was fine, he considered it as a win. 

He brought the beer to his lips and hummed with pleasure. The buzz in his head was numbing all of his thoughts. Good. Those thoughts were useless any way. 

A few moments passed and the beer was gone. The hotel was spinning now. Good. If only his head spun he would feel lonely. He tried getting up, but a strong force of nature sat him down again. Okay, he thought. Who was he to go against nature? 

The steps were warm against his butt. He liked that. He liked things being warm against his butt. He had a nice butt and it deserved to be warm. What wasn't warm was the wind that filtered through the open window down the corridor. It was beginning to hurt Tony. Tony didn't like being hurt. 

So he had a mission. He needed to get up, go against nature itself and close that goddamned window. It was very important, Tony couldn't fail at this. He needed to stand up and man up. 

He pushed himself away from the stairs, hoping the momentum would allow him to stand. A moment later, he was on his feet again. Victory! 

He only had to walk towards the window. One step at the time. 

"Tony?" someone said. Tony was sure it was nature's fabricated ghosts, designed to make him fail at his task. "What are you doing?" 

The voice made the room spin faster, throwing Tony off balance. He fell against the stupid yellow wall. A loud thump traveled through the air and a sharp pain entered his elbow. 

"Tony!" said the Voice. It was a dangerous voice, it had already proven to be a menace for Tony's journey. 

He couldn't move. Something warm was holding him. Had he been immobilized by nature's ghost? 

"Shit Tony, you're wasted," said the Voice, too close and too loud. Tony was afraid to meet the Voice, but he didn't have a choice. 

A cloud circled the room, making everything fuzzy. The room spun and made a loud throbbing sound. And now it had a cloud. Tony focused his sight, trying to decipher beyond the cloud's illusions. He saw two bright, blue eyes occupying a familiar face. 

"Steve?" asked Tony. Blue eyes frowned. Steve wasn't happy. Maybe he also wanted to close the window. "Closin the window," he tried saying, but the words came out wrong. 

"I can't believe you Tony, we're here one night and you're already wasted," said the Voice, this time controlling Steve's pretty mouth. Tony wasn't sure if it was the loud noise the room made, the spinning, or the wind, but the Voice seemed angry. "Come on, I'm taking you back to your room." 

Tony laughed. This guy didn't know how difficult that journey was. The walls were yelling him to close his eyes and the floor moved beneath his feet. How could Steve, who didn't know anything about making good movies, achieved such a feat? 

But suddenly, he was up again. It was weird, he wasn't doing anything but his body seemed to be moving. Was he flying? Maybe. 

"You're lucky you're so fucking small," said Steve/Voice. He was pressed against Tony's body. No, that wasn't right. Tony was pressed against Steve! He was wrapped around his arms, almost like a baby. Was Tony a baby? No, that was ridiculous. Baby's couldn't drink. Tony drank a lot. Sometimes too much. 

"Yes, I know you drink a lot, Tony. Could you please be quiet?" said Steve. Fuck. Now he could read Tony's mind. That was awfully dangerous. "No, I can't read your mind, you're just literally talking out loud." 

Tony gasped, amazed by Steve's new mind reading abilities. He could use it for the Greater Good. Or maybe for evil! No, that was ridiculous. Steve was a good guy. A great guy, even. 

"Well, thank you," he said. Tony wished he could just shut up his brain. 

A few moments passed and suddenly Tony was on a soft surface again. It was a very pleasant surface, much better than the wood from before. 

"The window!" he cried out, remembering his task. "Have to close it!" 

Steve sighted beside him. This room didn't spin so much, so Tony felt safe. 

"I closed the window, Tony. Now go to sleep," said Steve.

Then, Tony heard a loud bang. He got up and saw the door closed, no sign of Steve. Maybe he had been an illusion all along. He closed his eyes and dreamed of flying. Only this time, in the arms of a strong, blue eyed man. 

  
  


* * *

The morning settled with warm, dancing rays of light coming through the hotels curtains. It was sunday, the cast would be arriving throughout the day to start filming tomorrow. Carol was already settled in a friend’s cottage a few miles away and would come visit them in the afternoon. For now, the hotel only hosted a few families and a newlywed couple. Breakfast was being held at the upstairs deck, so Steve could see the seashore while sipping his coffee. He liked the tranquility. No one had recognised him ever since he left America. He wasn’t that big of a star, but back home people at least knew his face. Here, he was anonymous. He liked it, it felt like a vacation. At least for now. 

He was sitting alone in a small table against the balcony fence. Eggs and toast seemed to be a universal food, only here the egg came in strange container. Steve had no idea how to eat it. 

“You have to cut the tip and eat it with a spoon,” said a rough, tired voice. 

Steve looked up to admire a miserable vision. Tony was standing there, wrapped around a blanket wearing bright red sunglasses. He looked as hungover as he must have felt. 

“I can’t believe you’re up,” said Steve with a little more coldness than necessary. Last night had been a painful disappointment for him. Seeing Tony wandering around the hotel’s corridor’s half naked with a disgusting smell of whisky and beer was a wake up call. This guy wasn’t someone he could trust to carry out the movie. 

“Well, stranger things have happened.” said Tony, taking a seat in front of Steve. 

Steve felt annoyed. He didn’t want to share his breakfast with Tony. He wanted to be alone, read the script and prepare to meet with Carol. He didn't need to see Tony’s slow movements, to hold back his distaste for his lack of professionalism. 

Tony took out his glasses to rub his eyes. Then, he let his head fall in his hands.

“God, I really need some coffee right now,” he muttered. 

“Well, you have to get up and get it. They won’t bring it for you,” responded Steve, harshly. Tony looked up, hands brushing back his messy hair. 

“Could you get me some? I’m beat,” asked Tony, putting the glasses back on. 

Steve had to restrain himself from yelling at him to fuck off. 

“No, I can’t. Don’t you think I did enough for you last night?” he barked, holding tight his cup of coffee. Tony frowned, confused. 

“Jeez, alright,” he mumbled, getting up slowly. “Don’t need to be such a dick about it.” 

Steve took a deep breath and focused of finishing his breakfast. Now he knew how to eat the egg. Tony left his blanket and dragged his steps towards the long coffee table. Steve saw how he arranged himself a plate of fruit and spilled coffee all over the clean cups. The waiters rushed to clean the mess and Tony just stood there, holding a napkin without much idea of what to do. Always a spoiled brat. 

Steve deviated his attention to something else. From the balcony he could see the hotel’s golf course. A couple of geese were chasing down a squirrel by the lake. 

“Five stars, 300 bucks a night, and the coffee still tastes like shit,” said Tony, sitting down again. “It’s unbelievable.” 

Steve hummed and felt determined to look only at the squirrel. Tony was playing with his fruit, having little to no interest in eating it. 

“I would kill for some scrambled eggs right now,” said Tony with a sigh. 

“There are eggs right there,” pointed out Steve, finally dragging his head towards Tony. 

Tony made a short, bitter laugh. “Yeah, right. If I start eating that shit now I would end up shooting this movie with five pounds more on my hips.” 

Steve nodded, feeling no sympathy for Tony’s desire to break his diet over a hangover whim. 

“You know there’s a golf court here? We could shoot some holes after lunch.” commented Tony, finally putting a piece of banana in his mouth. “But I have to tell you, I'm really good. One time--” 

“We didn't came here to play golf,” cut him short Steve. Tony was taken aback, slightly hurt. 

“O...kay? What’s gotten into you?” he asked, shoving an orange slice into his mouth. “Why are you so cranky today? Is your bed too stiff? I could ask Pepper to change your room if you want.” 

“My bed is fine. I just don't wanna play golf,” said Steve, frustration raising. 

“Why? Are you scared I’m gonna win?” teased Tony, amused by the idea. 

“No, Tony. I came here to work. Not to play golf and certainly not to drink myself wasted,” sentenced Steve, patience lost. 

Realization hit Tony’s face, eyes filling with shame. He put on the glasses again, almost like a defense mechanism. 

“Is that what this is about? You’re mad about a few beers in my spare time?” he asked, voice stone cold. 

"A few beers?" asked Steve incredulously. "You were  _ wasted _ , Tony. Wasted." 

"So what? I'm a grown ass man, Rogers. I can do whatever I want," replied Tony, crossing his arms and looking away. 

"You were wandering around half naked!" cried out Steve. The couple sitting in a table close to them turned around. Steve lowered his voice. "What if someone had seen you?" 

"No one saw me, so. Case closed," replied Tony, voice growing angrier at the minute. 

"That's not the point." said Steve. He pinched his nose, frustrated by Tony's obtuse behavior. 

"Then what's the point?" 

"The point is that you need to act more professional than this. What if a kid bumped into you and posted it on Instagram? Everyone knows who you are Tony, you need to be more careful," said Steve, bending over the table. Tony tightened his lips. 

"Why do you care? No one knows you, no one would link you to me," he said, spitting the words with venom. Steve would have flinched at that cheap bow, if he hadn’t been expecting it. 

"I care because if you screw up, the whole production is at stake. You think you're the only one damaged by this idiotic behavior?" asked Steve. He glared at him, but only his reflection looked back. "Well think again, because if people think for even a second this is gonna fail, we all go down."

"Jeez, you're so dramatic!" bit back Tony. "I only went out for about twenty minutes-"

"Because I found you!" 

"And I thank you for it. What more do you want?" he shrugged. 

"I want you to stop jeopardizing the movie’s integrity!" exploded Steve. "If the media got hold of a picture of Tony Stark wasted on  _ the first night  _ of shooting, they would make a field day talking about how we're doomed to fail!"

Tony felt silent. He looked away, decidedly ignoring Steve. He was unbelievable. 

"You know, when people told me not to work with the drunkest asshole in the industry, I should've listened," quietly said Steve. 

He got up, abandoning his breakfast. Tony didn't flinch, staying put. Steve walked away. 

  
  


* * *

He spent the rest of the day locked away in the gym. Punching away his frustration and exhausting his rapid heart. Tony’s eyes revolted around in his mind. How could someone so talented be so obtuse? He was hoping for some sort of apology for last night. Some resemblance of a desire for redemption. But Tony had stubbornly justified his actions without taking any responsibility. 

He felt hopeless. Steve had never wanted to work so hard on a project than this one. This could be the role of his life. The part that would make everyone stop looking at him like just a pair of muscles. But how would he be able to work his ass off if his co-star was a dragging him down? 

He finished his workout routine and headed to the showers. Carol wanted the cast to have dinner with her before starting the production. He talked to her on the phone a couple of hours before entering the gym. She was excited about tomorrow, but wanted to make sure everyone was on their top game. Steve considered ratting Tony out to her, but decided not to. It would achieve nothing. 

He went to his room to change. Carol was taking them to a fancy restaurant so he needed to put on a suit. Steve didn't care much about suits, they felt a little too much. 

Natasha was waiting on the hotel's lounge. She had arrived around lunch, but Steve didn't talk to her all day. Tony had been glued to her hip. Only this time, she was alone. 

"Hi Steve, looking good," said Natasha, kissing him on the cheek. She was wearing a long, dark red dress. Absolutely beautiful. 

"You're the one to talk. You look amazing," he complimented her. "Someone to impress?" 

She laughed, shaking her head. "Only the paparazzi, baby." 

He offered his arm and they headed outside. Tony was waiting for them standing next to a long, black limo. He was wearing a tuxedo that hugged his waist and broadened his shoulders. Steve cursed internally. He looked insanely hot. 

"Carol sent this?” asked Nat. Tony opened the door and gesture her to get in. 

“Of course not. This is all me,” he said, flashing a giant smile. 

Steve climbed in without looking at him. Tony followed, closing the door behind him. 

“Rhodey and Clint aren’t coming?” asked Natasha. Steve knew they had arrived around noon.

“Nop,” answered Tony, popping the p. “Just us tonight. The golden boys.” 

“And girl!” added Nat. Tony laughed. 

“Of course, of course” 

And so they drove away. Steve was a little bummed to hear Clin wasn’t coming. He had had a really frustrating day and Clint’s jokes would have made him laugh. Besides, Tony and Natasha were really close friends so he felt a little left out. Granted, the fact that he refused to make conversation with Tony didn’t help. 

They arrived at the restaurant shortly after. Steve was glad he put on the suit; the place was top dollar. Wooden tables with white tablecloths with bright red chairs that looked more expensive than Steve’s whole kitchen. They were received by a host dressed better than Steve himself who swiftly took them to their table. 

Before they could sit down, an old couple approached them to take a picture with Tony. Steve was starting to feel annoyed at Tony’s overrated hype around here. Tony kissed each on the cheek and responded their questions with a kind smile. They left before any waiter could shoo them away. 

Carol was already sitting at the table, wearing a coral blue pant suit. Steve briefly thought everyone around here looked better in a suit than him. 

“Look at him, Mr Popular ” joked Carol as they sat down around her. Tony shrugged, amused. 

“What can I say. Show your ass one time in your twenties and you’ll be loved in Europe for all of eternity,” said Tony, setting the serviette on his lap. Steve copied him, just in case. 

“Not everyone has your ass,” commented Natasha. That was ridiculous, thought Steve. Natasha’s ass was amazing. Not that he had been staring. 

“That’s ridiculous, your ass is amazing. Believe me, I’ve looked,” said Tony, shaking his head. Natasha laughed and threw a napkin at him. Steve felt annoyed. Tony shouldn’t say that to a lady. Even if it were true. 

They ordered their meals and fell into a easy chatter. Natasha told them a few stories about shooting  _ Sunset  _ with Carol. A few of them were funny, but most of them made Steve a little scared. Carol was intense. 

The waiter brought their food with a bottle of wine. Tony had suggested an old Malbec he knew to be good. But when the man dipped the bottle to serve him the put a hand on top of the glass. 

“No, thank you. I'm not drinking tonight, stomach is a little weird,” he said offhandedly. He glanced at Steve for a second but quickly looked away. 

The food was excellent, Steve had ordered a trout with some fries (they're called chips here, Steve!) and was focused on devouring it. He was still pissed at Tony so he stubbornly kept quiet most of the evening. No one noticed: Tony could talk for everyone all night. The man wouldn’t shut up. 

After dessert they talked a bit about the movie. Carol told them what scenes she wanted to film tomorrow and how they could interpret them. She wanted the first day to include the three of them, to start off with a good sense of the chemistry. Steve would have to hide his disgust for Tony by then. 

They wrapped up a little after and bid Carol goodnight. She drove away in a gigantic red motorcycle, leaving Steve a little envious. He'd have to ride back to the hotel in Tony's limousine. 

Once they arrived, Steve mumbled a quick goodbye and headed towards his room. Tomorrow would be a big day, so he needed to get a good night's sleep. 

He put on some old pajamas and took out the script. He wanted to think about Felix before closing his eyes. To wake up already in character. 

But then he heard a knock on the door. He sighed, begging for it not to be Tony. He got up and walked slowly to the door. 

"What is it, T- oh," he said, surprised. Natasha was standing at the doorstep, wearing sweatpants and those horrible crocs. For some reason, Steve felt a little disappointed. "Hi Nat." 

Natasha didn't miss the sudden shift in Steve's demeanor, but didn't comment on it. "Hi Steve. Can I come in?" 

"Sure," said Steve, moving away to make room for her. She walked towards the bed and sat down. "Is something wrong?" 

"I don't know. You tell me," she said, piercing him with her eyes "You seemed pretty distant at dinner."

Steve shrugged, closing the door. Something about her posture made him feel uneasy. 

"There's just a lot on my mind right now," he said. 

Natasha hummed, contemplating his words. She looked at the messy suitcase, laying forgotten on a small table by the window.

"Tony told me you two had a fight this morning," she said casually, looking back at him again. 

Steve huffed and crossed his arms. He knew Tony had been bickering about him. He wondered what version of the story Nat had received.

“Well, yeah. He got wasted yesterday and I had to drag him back to his room,” said Steve, frustrated by the memories. 

“And that makes you angry,” said Nat, frowning. 

“Of course it makes me angry. What if someone had seen him? He wasn't exactly putting on a good show for the press” said Steve, confused at Natasha’s obvious statement. 

“Did someone see him?” she asked. 

“No, but-”

“Then why are you angry?” inquired Natasha. She got up, her petite frame somehow managing to be menacing. “No one saw him, nothing bad happened.” 

Steve stared at her, trying to understand where she was coming from. Tony had been profoundly unprofessional. That was a fact. Steve could have handled the situation better that morning, yes. But Tony had been the one to prance around in boxer briefs. 

“No, nothing happened. But if he does it again he could jeopardize the movie,” explained Steve, even if it seemed obvious to him. “We can’t allow him to behave like this.” 

Natasha made a short, bitter laugh. 

“You think he wants to behave like this?” she asked, voice stone cold. Steve swallowed. 

“I don’t know what he wants. Maybe he thought he could have a little fun before the shoot. Maybe he was bored. The only thing I know is that it was wrong.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “He’s an addict, Steve. He doesn’t do this because he thinks is fun, he does it because he can’t stop.” 

Steve felt silent. He had no words for that.

“I… didn't know.” he said, quietly. It wasn’t completely true, though. He read a thousand magazines about how Tony Stark couldn't go through the day without a glass of wine in his hand. Steve never gave it a second thought, always assumed they were exaggerations. “With more reason then, he shouldn't be drinking.” 

“Don’t do that.” she said, making a bitter smile. “Don’t act as if you care.” 

“I do ca-”

“No, you don’t. You don’t care about him. You’re just paranoid he’s gonna ruin your big shot,” sentenced Natasha, seeing right through him. Steve took a moment to compose himself.

“I'm not, I just want everyone to be on their top game. Is that so bad?” he said, feeling an argument coming his way. 

“God, you’re so obtuse,” she said, covering her eyes with her hand. “You think you’ve got everyone figured out. You think you know what’s best for the people you don’t even try to understand.” 

“He shouldn't be drinking, Nat. It doesn’t take much understanding to know that,” said Steve. 

“No, he shouldn't. You’re right. But you think he’s gonna stop just because you yelled at him?” she countered, staring him down. “If he feels guilty, he drinks. If he feels miserable, he drinks. If he feels he’s screwing everything up, he drinks. That’s how he copes. That's what you achieved.” 

Steve stared at the floor, feeling defeated.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said quietly. “I only want what’s best for this movie.”

“Don’t worry. There’s only one thing that keeps him sober: work,” said Natasha, voice as cold as the night. She looked at him with disgust. “He never drinks during work. It’s what keeps him sane. So you’re movie is safe.” 

Steve swallowed, recollecting his thoughts. Natasha was transparently irritated by Steve’s obsession with the movie’s success. Maybe she was right. Tony’s wellbeing must be more important for her than the movie. He’s one of her best friends. 

Steve suddenly felt very guilty. These people were dealing with greater and crueler things than a bad review. For what he could recollect, Tony’s drinking problems have been around for a long time. Making him lose jobs and ostracizing him from the industry. And here Steve was. Having tantrums over the slightest possibility of bad press. 

“I’m sorry, Natasha." he whispered. “You’re right. I’ll try to be more sympathetic. You have my word.”

Natasha’s face softened. She made a small, sad smile. 

“Thank you. I know he can be tough. He can be the most annoying prick on the planet. But he’s a really good man. And a hard working actor,” said Natasha. 

Steve nodded, finally being able to break a smile. She sighed.

“Goodnight, Steve. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said and headed towards the door. 

“Goodnight,” responded Steve. With that, she left. 

Steve knew what he needed to do now. 

  
  


* * *

Tony took a deep, long breath and washed his face. The on suite bathroom was huge and it faintly reminded him of his own. He used to love travelling when he was younger. He made the entirety of  _ A father’s tale _ on South America and until this day he considered one of the best experiences of his life. But as he grew older the appeal of sleeping on stiff mattresses and eating half cooked meals faded away. He missed his bed, his room and, weirdly enough, his towels. Even so, this hotel had something that charmed him. 

He finished brushing his teeth and walked towards the huge dresser. He was oddly neat when it came to clothing. The first thing he did that morning (after taking a few pills for the headache) had been organizing his closet. He might have been a little extreme with the share amount of suits and jackets he brought, but he liked looking nice. It was one of the few things he loved about money and fame. Fashion. It gave him a sense of control and tidiness that he sometimes needed. 

He took out his blazer and hanged it on the correct section. It was blue, so it needed to be next to the purple one. Then, he unbuttoned his shirt and folded it into one of the drawers. He took a look at himself in the mirror, shirtless. He was slimmer than he used to be on his twenties. Back then, the only thing that matter was getting big. Now things had changed and audiences preferred toned abs and slim waists. Hollywood’s obsession with looks was something that had accompanied him his whole life. Always perfecting his body, always watching his food. 

The first thing he did after getting the role was burying himself in the gym. A few months had later and he looked frankly amazing. It was weird for him, being fit again. He spent the last five years drinking wine and eating garbage, so looking at the defined abs in his stomach was like entering a memory. Tony hated a lot of things about himself. Tonight, his body wasn’t one of them. 

He stripped off his pants and headed to the bed. Tomorrow would be huge and he needed to have a clear head. He had been anxious all day. Granted, it was mostly about Steve. He knew he had fucked up last night. He knew he couldn’t be getting that drunk around new people. But the plane ride, the anxiety of the shoot and the sheer amount of tension in his shoulders made him let his guard down. He wouldn't let that happen again. 

A soft knock on the door made him stop on his tracks. It was around 11 pm. Puzzled, he opened the door. 

“Hi, um… oh.”

Steve was standing on his door. Which was a weird for a couple of reasons. First, as already stated, it was late; he should have been be sleeping by now. Second, Steve hated him. Fact that was made abundantly clear throughout the day. Third, and most important, Tony was only wearing tight black boxers. Something that, judging from Steve’s expression, was fully noticeable. 

“Is this a bad time?” asked Steve, looking anywhere but Tony. Tony could swear a faint blush painted Steve's cheeks. 

“I mean, it’s almost midnight, but you already knew that,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning on the door. 

“Right,” said Steve and fell silent. 

“Do you want to come in?” he asked a moment later, realizing that Steve wouldn't move

“Um yeah, thank you.” muttered Steve. 

Tony moved away to let him enter the room. Steve looked down and hurriedly passed through, trying his best not to touch Tony’s naked skin. Tony frowned, amused by Steve’s obvious discomfort. Even so, he headed towards the dresser to put on a robe. 

“So, what brings you over to my humble lair? Nightcap?” joked Tony, sitting down on the couch beside his huge bed. Steve was still standing there, looking like a huge, anxious pillar. He made an uncomfortable laugh and looked around, probably trying to find the furthest seat away from Tony. He settled for the bed. 

“No, I...uhm,” mumbled Steve. God, he was a mess. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “I came here to apologize.” 

Tony raised his eyebrows, completely surprised. Of all the things he thought would happen tonight, Steve coming in here to apologize was further down his list than kissing Clit Barton. 

“For what?” asked Tony, genuinely perplexed. Steve ran a hand through his hair.

“I… I shouldn’t have been so hard on you,” he said, looking at his hands. “You’re right, you didn’t do anything to harm the movie.” 

Tony wanted to laugh. It hadn't been the first time a co-star chastised him for being drunk off his ass. But it was the first time someone apologized for it. It was absurd. 

“Okay...?” he said, not quite believing him. “Did Nat put you up to this?”

Steve shook his head, still looking down. 

“No, she didn’t. I'm serious. I’ve been a complete dick,” he said with a sigh. 

Tony, for the first time in years, didn't know what to say. People never asked  _ him  _ for forgiveness. It was usually the other way around. He felt very uncomfortable all of the sudden. 

“We have to respect each other,” said Steve, finally looking at him. “They’ll tear us apart out there, we can’t make it easier for them.” 

Tony nodded, now being his turn to look away. Steve was right, critics had no compassion for all the work artist put into their movies. They would find the weak link and terrorize them to death. Tony had never been the target when it came to his performance, but the media had found other ways to destroy him. Print enough ink calling someone a drunk and all the phones would stop ringing. 

“I think you’re a great actor,” said Steve with a soft voice. He was being painfully genuine and it made Tony feel uneasy. “I grew up watching your films and-”

”Way to make someone feel old,” interrupted Tony, looking at the window. Anywhere. 

“ ...and they truly are an inspiration.You’re very, very talented, Tony.” continued Steve, unbothered. 

Tony swallowed. He knew he was talented. People had been writing about that ever since he made that crappy movie in ‘98. But they were always careful never to say it to his face. They thought his ego was big enough already. But here was Steve, praising him completely unfazed. They were dangerously entering unknown territory and Tony didn’t like it one bit.

“Look, Steve. There’s no need for this,” he said, gesturing with his hand. “We’re okay. You got mad because I did something stupid, don’t worry about it.” 

Steve smiled and looked down. Then he shook his head. “You’re one of the most beloved actors of our generation. But you really can’t take a compliment, can you?” 

Tony felt called out. This sudden shift in their dynamics frustrated him. Why was Steve the one in control? He’d been a mumbeling mess not ten minutes ago. And now he acted all superior, with his honest compliments and selfless apologies? Tony couldn't understand. He stood up and walked towards the window, reordering his thoughts. He held onto the frame and looked into the night. Steve was virtually a stranger yet he barged into his room, opening himself up to Tony without much problem. Tony didn't know what he wanted from him. He didn't know what to do with this. 

Suddenly, Tony felt tired. Maybe not everything had to be a struggle. Maybe he could simply let this be. 

“Thank you,” he said, trying to make his voice sound as even as possible. “For coming here, for making amends. Just… thank you.” 

He wasn’t sure Steve had heard him. But it was too much, so he wouldn't say it again. From the corner of his eyes he saw Steve getting up from the bed and walking slowly to him. Tony turned around. There he was. Standing tall, illuminated by the soft nightstand and the cold moonlight. He looked unrestricted, undershirt hugging his muscles and sweatpants loosely hanging on his hips. His hair was a profound mess but it somehow helped complete his effortless beauty.

Tony inhaled sharply. Steve’s eyes were too bright, too blue. Too close. 

“You’re welcome,” he said with a low, deep voice. 

A moment passed. Tony couldn't help but notice how pink his lips were. 

“This is very important for me,” whispered Tony. He didn't know compelled him to say it. Maybe it was the night’s enchantment. Maybe it was Steve’s openness. Maybe he just needed to say it. 

“I know,” said Steve, making a small nod. His eyes were staring right into Tony’s. 

“No, you don’t understand,” said Tony. He needed to make himself clear. “This movie… it’s everything for me. I would never fuck this up.” 

“I know,” repeated Steve. He took a step further. He smelled of cologne and fresh mint. 

“No, really. I can’t, I can’t mess this up,” he said. He felt urgency rising within him. Steve had to know. “If this fails-”

“Tony,” interrupted Steve, putting a hand on his forearm. He almost melted at the touch. “I know.” 

Tony swallowed. Steve took another a step forward. They were almost touching. Tony could feel the warmth of his massive body. His skin was burning. Suddenly, the fact that his chest was out in the open made him feel exposed. 

Tony wasn’t an idiot. He knew what this meant. But he couldn't allow himself to go there. Even if Steve’s eyes were wandering around his mouth. Even if those broad shoulders could hold him up against the wall and make him forget every drop of alcohol that was taunting him from the minibar. He couldn't. He wouldn't fuck this up. Tony was volatile, he would mess up again, get drunk again and Steve would be furious. Sleeping with him tonight would only add to the list of problems. He needed to protect the movie from his own mistakes. 

So he looked away, breaking the spell. 

“I’m really tired. I should go to bed,” he said quietly. Steve nodded and stepped away. Tony felt cold again. 

“Yeah, me too,” whispered Steve, sounding defeated. He walked towards the door, leaving Tony standing alone beside the freezing window. “I'm glad we talked.” he said. 

Tony nodded. And with that, Steve left. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind comments, it made me incredibly happy you guys. I'll be posting again next Saturday!! Really excited for you to see what comes next


	3. Just playing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing this chapter I noticed how heavy the 2012 trends are playing into this one. So get your nostalgia on and enjoy

Steve was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot. 

Yesterday had been the confirmation of it. Not only did he treated Tony like shit but he also made a fool of himself on the same day. 

Steve didn't know why he made a move on Tony. He wasn't planning on it. Sure, Tony had always been someone he considered attractive, but he never intended to actually try something. It was too unprofessional. 

Until last night. He was determined to apologize for his crappy behavior but then  _ that  _ happened. Tony opened the door. Shirtless. Wearing only those tight boxers that hugged his ass in a way that made Steve lose it. 

He knew Tony was fit. He'd seen it the other night. But the way he stood there, unapologetically naked with those strong, defined muscles was something that threw him completely off guard. He almost lost his ability to speak just because Tony's nipples were the same shade of pink than his lips. 

He somehow managed to look away and recover from it. He found the words he needed to make his apologies. If only he would've left it there. 

He had to push the limits, get into Tony's space. Freaking grab his arm and stare at his mouth. What was he thinking? Or better said,  _ with  _ what? 

Of course Tony wouldn't wanna be with him. He'd treated him like shit. Tony was a legend, an immensely talented actor. He could have anyone he wanted, of course he wouldn't sleep with the man who called him a drunk.

Steve had misread the signs. He thought the quiet moment, the honesty and the openness was leaning towards something else. He was wrong. 

And now he had to awkwardly film their first scene together.  The sun shined bright over the countryside. There wasn't much wind and the temperature felt just right. Carol said it was a good sign. Their first scene would be of the three main characters walking alongside the seashore, chatting about the events of the plot.

Steve had had his costume fitting back in America, but this was the first time the whole outfit was together. He'd never done a period piece, so looking at himself dressed as someone from two thousand years ago was bizarre. He had a long white robe that brushed the floor and hanged from his right arm. With a brown leather belt that hugged his waist, giving the fabric a charming fall. Tony was similarly dressed, only with more golden details to match his character wealth. 

They first encountered each other twenty minutes before the scene. Steve stared at him, trying to find the words to undo what he did last night. But as he decided to make some half assed joke, Tony smiled brightly at him and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. 

"Today is the big day, huh?" he said, looking around the location. The crew were almost done setting up the equipment and Carol was chatting with Natasha. "The first step of the journey." 

"I feel like we've taken plenty of steps already," said Steve lightly. He was immensely relieved that Tony had apparently decided to ignore Steve's advances. 

He laughed and nodded. Steve had never seen him in such a good mood. 

"You're right, but this is where the magic begins," said Tony with pure joy. 

Steve smiled, feeling inspired by Tony's excitement. Natasha was right, this was what kept him grounded. The work, the art. Tony truly shined when he was on set. 

Carol called them to their positions and the camera rolled. Steve was a little nervous at first, but the dialogue was fairly simple and the scene didn't require that much action. He rapidly got it under control. 

Steve had worked with talented people in his life, but Natasha and Tony where something else. They were mesmerizing, delivering their lines with such unique tones, gesturing in ways Steve hadn't seen them do before. They were amazing actors and Steve felt proud to be on their team. 

They finished working around noon. Steve was really happy with his own performance. The general atmosphere was very optimistic, specially thanks to Carol’s on point directions. Steve felt a bit overwhelmed by it. He wanted to work in a serious drama piece ever since he started acting. Sure,  _ Captain America _ was a great experience and something he would forever be grateful. But that success had been for a number of factors that exceeded good performances or even good writing. The political climate was screaming for a good-hearted, national war hero that could punch some nazis and remind everyone how good America was. Steve felt a little embarrassed by how nationalistic that character became. He liked Cap, but sometimes he felt they’ve gone a little too far with the stripes and stars. 

This movie was different. Carol had something she wanted to say. She liked exploring heartbreak and selfless decisions. Love was something she used as a tool for character development, not some lousy plot point.

The days went by and Steve fell more content with the film. Carol was tough and she demanded a lot from them. Steve had to break barriers he didn't even know he was holding. But as Steve manage to deliver complicated emotions and really get into Felix’s skin, he grew more determined. Carol may be a firm director, but she knew how to make good movies. 

Each day the crew would get to the location very early and prepare everything. Around 9, Steve would be called in to do his scenes. Most of them were with Tony’s character, Maximus. He was the owner of the Inn Felix’s was staying in. There were a lot of quiet, intimate scenes of them talking about their past lives. Maximus had lost his wife and daughter during a raid and never fully recovered. It was his relationship with him and Petra, Nat’s character, that made him heal. 

Tony and him were in sync. Their chemistry was palpable and they bounced off each other masterfully. Tony loved improvising and changing the lines, something Steve hadn’t been able to do in his last movies. To his pleasant surprise, Steve was actually good at it. Every time Tony threw him something unexpected, he quickly found a way to counter it. Acting alongside Tony was exhilarating. And Carol loved all of it. 

He couldn’t help notice how Felix and Maximus’s relationship was slowly bleeding into their own. They were joking between scenes, chatting about their views of the films and eating lunch together. Natasha was around a lot, but Tony and Steve became a unity. 

One afternoon Steve took a bit too long to film his scenes. Every cast member had already left, except for one. Tony had been waiting for him. Casually playing with his phone, looking tired but nonetheless standing there for Steve. Since that day they rode together every morning and waited for each other each afternoon. 

Steve hadn’t forgotten about the incident. Tony acted like nothing happened, but it was still burnt into Steve’s mind. The way he looked under the moonlight, how his muscles moved against the fabric. Steve never tried anything more, but Tony was a really physical person. Always hugging his friends, giving them little squeezes and touching their faces. Steve melted each time Tony kissed him on the cheek. But of course, he didn't say anything. 

It wasn't a problem. It really wasn't. His friendship with Tony was worth every frustration. Sure, Steve may have had to bite his hand a few times at night while he stroke himself thinking about those pink tiny nipples. Otherwise, everything was fine. Tony wanted a friend and Steve wanted Tony to be happy. He could bury his feelings deep inside. He was actually pretty good at it. 

Until one day his barriers flew away. 

Their biggest scene was the volcano's eruption. They had to do everything on a exterior location and it would take three days to film. The whole cast was involved, the main three and the secondary characters. Carol wanted to do a few short takes and then a big sequence shot. They built cardboard houses for the set and brought in a ton of extras.

Everything was ready to film. Except for one big problem. It started raining. 

Carol was furious. The forecast had announced a bright sunny weather for the whole week. Somehow, a stormed approached them slowly and the first drops started to fall. They couldn't do the scene if it rained and it would hold them back too much if they left. 

So Carol sent the cast to wait to their trailers and locked herself up with the assistant director to rearrange today's schedule. 

Steve went to his trailer, a little bummed by the news. He was really looking forward to this scene, it was one of the most powerful moments of the film. But he needed to be patient. 

He had a decent sized trailer, with a bathroom and a small living room. There were snacks in the minibar but he couldn't eat for the sheer amount of anxiety he felt. He threw himself on the couch and opened a book. A few moments later he heard and insistent knock tap on the door.

"Steve, let me in!" yelled Tony’s voice, "I'm getting wet and you know what that does to my hair." 

Steve chuckled and got up. Of course Tony wouldn't bare being alone, he would bore himself to death. Or worse, start drinking. 

"You know we have umbrellas, right?" said Steve, opening the door with a big smile. Tony walked in hurriedly, hugging himself to regain heat. 

"Yes I know but I clearly didn't think this through," he said, grabbing one of Steve's shirts to dry himself. "You don't mind, do you?" he said, gesturing at the now wet t-shirt.

Steve shook his head. A few weeks ago this would've driven him mad, but now he couldn't care less. If Tony wanted to dry himself with Steve, he would be welcome. Maybe Steve would even volunteer for it. 

"We're having a locked-away-in-the-storm party, everyone's invited," said Tony, dropping himself on the couch. Steve stared at him. They were both still in costume, so looking at a Roman merchant sitting in his modern trailer was deeply amusing.

"Are we having it here?" asked Steve, sitting next to him.

"Yes, we have more room here than in my trailer," said Tony, writing away on his phone. 

"Well, you did loose space with that giant TV you brought in,” commented Steve. 

Tony shrugged. They heard a soft knock on the door, followed by Clint’s voice. 

“Are you guys decent?” he yelled, making Steve faintly blush. 

“I’m never decent,” said Tony, opening the door. 

Clint was waiting outside with Natasha and Rhodey. They did have an umbrella, even the three of them barely fit under it.

“I’ve seen you indecent. This is catholic schoolgirl in comparison,” said Rhodey, taking Tony’s place on the couch. Steve felt a pinch of disappointment when Tony sat on the floor and not next to him. 

“So you guys have any booze here?” asked Clint, sitting on the small table by the window. Steve saw how Tony lightly flinched at the question. 

“No, we don’t. Pepper’s rules were clear,” sentenced Steve. There was an order from production stating that no alcoholic beverages were allowed on set. Even if it weren’t the case, Steve would never have alcohol here. He couldn’t do that to Tony. 

Clint shrugged, but didn’t comment on it again. Maybe it was because of the killer glare Natasha gave him. “So what should we do?” 

“I have cards if someone wants to play,” offered Steve. 

So they spent the afternoon playing cards games. It wasn't the most fun Steve’d had in his life, but at least it wasn't him alone in the rain. The hours went by and matches were won and lost. Rhodey was a surprisingly sore loser and Natasha was unsurprisingly a very good player. 

"Fuck this," cried Rhodey after loosing for the sixth time in UNO. "Let's play something more interesting." 

"What do you suggest?" asked Tony, who was spreaded out the floor, his head on Natasha's lap. Steve wished he could be the one to run his fingers through Tony's hair. 

"I have one," said Rhodey with a grin. "It's supposed to be a drinking game but we can do it with water."

"Okay, I'm in," said Clint, who was playing with the fake arrows he used as props. Well, or what he would've used if they've been able to film. 

"It goes likes this. I say something about you. If I'm right, you drink. If I'm wrong, I drink," he explained. 

"Let's shake it up a little. If you're wrong, you have to do a dare." added Nat, still playing with Tony's hair. 

"You're on." said Rhodey. 

Clint got up to grab some glasses. Steve helped him and soon enough everyone had their drinks ready. 

"I'll start. Stark," said Clint, calling for Tony's attention. He lifted his head, looking at him with interest. "Of all the films that you've made,  _ A father's tale  _ is your favorite." 

Tony smiled and got up, drinking from his cup. "For now," he said, winking at Steve. "Rhodey. You still haven't seen  _ Sunset. _ " 

"I have," said Rhodey, looking smug. "Dude you've known me for 20 years, how can you lose at this?" 

Tony shrugged, drinking from his water again. 

"No, no. You have to do whatever I tell you," said Rhodey, gesturing with his hands. "Send Pepper an eggplant emoji." 

Tony made a face but reached for his cell phone. A moment later, he locked it again. "Done. That was really a missed opportunity." 

Rhodey shaked his head and looked at Natasha. "Nat. You've punched a paparazzi." 

Natasha smiled and quietly took a sip. Steve gasped. 

"You've punched one? How didn't I know this?" he asked, extremely amused. 

"He was harassing me so I just went for it. The guy didn't want to admit a girl hit him so he kept quiet," she explained. Clint mumbled something about being terrified of her.

"Steve. You've slept a costar before." 

Steve swallowed. The truth was that he deeply wanted to, but he couldn't. He glanced a Tony for a second and then shook his head.

"No, never." 

Tony raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Really? Never?" 

"No, never," answered Steve, confused by Tony's surprise. "What? Have you?" 

Natasha and Rhodey laughed, knowing something he didn't. Tony looked amused, but slightly embarrassed. 

"Yeah like, 90% of them," he said simply. 

Steve had to recalculate at that. Tony had been with co stars before? He knew Tony liked to sleep around, or at least that was what the tabloids said. But hearing it was another thing altogether. 

"Steve, you have to dare Nat to something," said Rhodey, bringing him back. He looked around, trying to come up with something. 

"Drink the whole bottle of water in one go," said Steve, gesturing at a 2 liters bottle resting by the minibar. 

"Okay," she said, getting up. She walked towards the bottle, her Roman robes falling gracefully down her spine. Without doubting one second, she lifted the bottle and started drinking it. In two minutes, she had already finished it. 

"Now someone has to dare you not to go to the bathroom," joked Clint. Nat smiled. 

"Clint. You've watched all of Tony's films at least three times," she said. Clint made a thin line with his mouth, totally exposed. He reached for his glass and took a big gulp. Tony grinned smugly. 

"Aw Clint, I didn't know you were a fan," he said, putting a hand on his chest, pretending to be touched. Clint looked away, embarrassed. 

"No comment. Steve." Clint said, looking determined. Steve swallowed. "You've been with a man." 

Steve clenched his jaw. He liked men, of course he did. But he never said anything about it to these people. Hollywood was a weird place, the industry was very hypocritical when it came to sexuality. In  _ Captain America  _ the were two screenwriters that were gay, but every character was straight as an arrow. Steve's costar in the second movie,  _ Strike Team _ was also gay, but it was all hush hush. Steve never openly told anyone at work that he was gay. He was afraid it would get him typecasted. He already got himself trapped as the American Soldier, he couldn't get set aside as the gay character now. 

But he wasn't ashamed of it. He wouldn't lie about it. 

Steve puffed his chest and drank all his cup in one go. Clint whistled. 

"Wow. Look at Mister America," he said amused. Tony blew a raspberry. 

"Of course he’s slept with a man. Everyone’s a bit gay in Hollywood," he said, unsurprised.

Steve stared at him. Did that mean Tony had also laid with men? Of course it did, that was transparent. He seemed so unaffected by it, so true to himself. Steve knew the rumors surrounding Tony Stark’s sexuality. He never denied them. Steve had read about Tony sleeping with at least 5 major male Hollywood stars, but thought it was all bullshit. 

Something hurt in Steve’s heart. If Tony was so keen on sleeping with his costars, even the men, then why didn’t he want to sleep with Steve? 

“Alright, Tony,” said Steve. Determination grew inside of him. He was a grown man, he wouldn't be mopping around because some guy didn’t like him. Even if that guy was as hot as a summer day. “You hated me the first time you met me.” 

The room fell silent. Tony stared at him, eyes dark with something Steve couldn’t recognize. Clint shifted uncomfortably behind him and coughed. Steve didn’t care. He held Tony’s gaze with a smirk on his lips. He could play nonchalant too. 

Tony grinned and slowly shook his head. “No, I just envied you.” 

Steve raised his eyebrows, perplexed by the answer. He expected Tony to lie about not hating him, but that declaration was strange. What did Tony have to envy? He was a better actor, better looking, richer and beloved by the public. How could Steve, a low profile action star, have anything that Tony would’ve wanted? It was insane. 

Steve realized he’d been staring at him like an idiot and closed his mouth. Tony looked at him, strangely defiant. 

“Kiss someone," he said. Eyes firm and lips slightly parted. “Anyone here.” 

Steve swallowed. What was Tony playing at? He must knew how Steve felt, the first week had been pretty clear. Steve didn’t like mind games. He felt exasperated at them. But he could play along. He could do the bold move. 

He stood up from the couch and deliberately sat down in front of Nat and Tony. She smiled softly at him and somehow Steve found strength in it. He reached for Tony’s face, placing a hand on his cheek. Tony’s eyes were like daggers staring him down. Daring him to do it. Steve felt himself burning, all signs of the cold rain melted away. He closed his eyes and softly kissed Tony’s lips. 

Everything shut down around him. The warm pressure of Tony's tongue sent shivers down his spine. He felt electrified. Nothing else mattered. Only Tony’s mouth and the sweet feel of those lips against his own. He kissed him gently, with a delicacy that Steve interpreted as pure cautiousness. Steve wanted more, so much more. But this wasn’t the place or the time. Even if every time Tony’s tongue pressed against his own he felt he could reach the sky. 

Steve broke away, dazzled by the moment. He saw how Tony licked his lips. They were faintly swollen and Steve couldn't help but think that that was his mark. Even if Tony wouldn't want anything else, even if this was just a game, Steve would always have this. The sight of Tony’s lips redden by his own. 

“Hey guys, we’re leaving… what’s going on here?”

Steve looked up to see Carol standing by the trailer’s opened door. She looked worn down, disillusioned by the day. Clin stood up and put his glass on the sink. 

“Tony and Steve were being weird,” he said crossing his arms. 

“They’re always weird.” said Carol, making a face. “Anyway, the crew is dismantling everything. The sun will come down soon and there won't be enough light to film shit. So, we’re going back.” 

She wasn’t happy about it. None of them were, but they sucked it up. Clint and Carol walked away, chatting about other unfortunate events they had on other films. Steve felt drunk. He couldn't make himself look at Tony again, so he left. The realization of what he'd done slowly hit him. He kissed Tony Stark. 

  
  


* * *

Shit. 

He'd done it. 

He had fucked it up again. He made Steve kiss him. It was so easy, so tempting that Tony couldn't help himself. The way he stared when Natasha played with his hair. The look in his eyes when he talked about sleeping with co stars. It was all too much and too little at the same time. 

They've grown so close together those are last few weeks. Tony ran towards Steve in between takes just to talk to him. A joke, a comment, even some friendly banter. They've fallen into an easy, honest friendship that made Tony proud. 

And now he'd fucked it up. He kissed Steve and felt his heart jump. He couldn't do this, couldn't keep sleeping around with the people he cared about. He always disappointed them, always made them angry. He needed this friendship to work out. He needed this movie to work out. 

So he stood in Steve's trailer, paralyzed. Carol and the other had already left the set, only Natasha remained. Steve had disappeared as soon as Tony looked away.

Shit. 

"Let's go, sweetie," said Nat, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the door. He nodded and said nothing. 

They headed towards the costume department and changed into their normal clothes. Tony saw Steve’s robe hanging on the dresser. He must’ve already been gone. Nat talked to a chauffeur and got them a car to go back to the studio. Steve hadn't been waiting for him this time. 

"Why did you do that?" asked Nat after the car took off. 

"Do what?" he said. It was useless, Nat could always see right through him. 

"Make him kiss you," she said, without missing a beat. "You knew he would pick you." 

Tony looked away, a little bit ashamed. 

"I don't know. I wanted to have a little fun," he shrugged, hiding himself from Nat's hard stare. "Wasn't the game supposed to be about that?" 

Natasha kept quiet a few seconds. 

"He's a good guy, Tony," she said. 

"I know that," answered Tony frustrated.

"Then don't play with him." 

He turned around. She was staring him down, eyes hard. Tony felt guilty again. 

"It was just a stupid game, Nat," he said, voice weak. He didn't fool anyone. "Can't we forget about it?" 

"He won't," she said, pursing her lips. 

"Why are you saying that?" said Tony, exasperated. "You don't know that. It meant nothing to him and it meant nothing to me." 

The car became quiet. Natasha was studying him, calculating her next move. Tony felt on trial. 

"Are you trying to lie to me or are you trying to lie to yourself?" she asked, words sharp. Tony frowned. "Because either way, Steve's the collateral damage." 

Tony wanted to respond, but the driver announced their arrival. He shook his head, tired of the conversation. He opened the door and walked. Nat didn't follow him. 

Good. He didn't need her lecturing him right now. He knew he had screwed up, but not because of the reasons Natasha believed. Steve didn't want anything more than a good fuck. Tony couldn't risk their friendship for that.

He'd told Nat about the night they almost kissed. She looked surprised at first but then quickly jumped into conclusions. She believed that Steve felt things for Tony that went beyond sleeping together. She was wrong. Steve was a close friend now, but he didn't see Tony as nothing more than a fun night. 

Tony would've killed for one night in Steve's arms, but he knew the risks. Steve must’ve thought it would all be inconsequential, that they could keep working together without any repercussions. But Tony knew what he woke in people. He managed to make them hate him. And Steve wouldn't be the exception. 

He locked himself inside his room. It was happening again. He was ruining things with his idiotic impulses. He had been too reckless. All because of Steve's blue eyes and stupid smile. 

He felt afraid. He couldn't kiss Steve again. But he had already decided to keep things platonic and even so he crossed the line. What if he ruined their friendship? How would they be able to work together? 

He ached for a drink. He hadn't opened the minibar since he chugged everything on the first night. He swore to himself he would never drink again while working. The shoot was more important than his whims. The burning extasis wouldn't do him any good. 

But his mind couldn't focus on anything else. He didn't know how he ended up standing next to the minibar, but there he was. Staring at the metal box hard enough to melt it. It was calling for him, begging him to open it. He clenched his fist. 

His heart was beating rapidly. Guilt. That feeling he had grown so used to. And there was one thing that would surely make it stop. It was one door away. 

He grabbed the metal handle. It was cold. With one swift movement, he opened the minibar. It had a few sodas and two sandwiches.

No alcohol. They hadn't restock it. 

Tony sighed, heavily disappointed but relieved. He walked around his room, still anxious. Even if the minibar didn't have any alcohol he could pick up the phone and order something. It would be just one drink, just something to help him sleep. He swallowed and looked at the phone. Maybe Pepper had given the order not to restock his room. If that were the case, calling room service would trace back to his room. He didn't want to have that conversation with her again. 

He grabbed his jacket and left.  Getting out of the hotel unnoticed was a bit tricky. It was around eight and people were getting ready to eat dinner. A few crew members were chatting on the reception about that day’s fiasco. Tony mumbled some lame excuse about needing air and walked passed them. It was still raining outside so he received a few confused states. He would deal with that later. 

A cab was waiting for him outside. He knew a little pub a few miles down the road. It was a charming place with cheap beer and friendly faces. He wanted his mind to be as far away from luxury and work as possible. 

He entered the pub and sat at the furthest table possible. The dim lighting made him feel hidden amongst the people. No one recognized him. 

"Hello, are you ready to order?" asked a young man with a thick beard. Everyone here seemed to have a beard. 

"Yes, bring me a pint. Red," he ordered, anxious about being found. 

Luckily no one paid attention to him. His cell phone rang a few times but he shoved it in his back pocket. This was his alone time. He wanted to drink his beer and go home. 

Only he finished his drink way too soon. It wasn’t nearly as satisfactory as he’d believed. So he ordered another. He told himself it he could allow just one more. It was only beer, nothing too serious. 

He tried to shut off his mind and just look around the place. The walls were made of wood with tons of portraits hanging disorganized. It seemed to be a family business. One couple repeated on the majority of the photos. 

Tony tried to look for the men in the pictures but he couldn't find him. Maybe this wasn't his shift. 

"You're American, aren't you?" asked the waiter when he came to clean his forgotten peanuts. "I think I saw your face somewhere."

"Yes, I'm American. We do have pretty common faces," dismissed Tony. 

The waiter nodded and grabbed the empty glass. "You want another?" 

Tony swallowed. He really shouldn't. He was already feeling a little dizzy. 

"Yes," he said, looking away. 

The man left and Tony took a deep breath. He really shouldn't have done that. He really shouldn't be there at all. This was a mistake. 

But when the third beer came and touched his lips, it didn't feel like a mistake. It felt good. The sour taste of the ale and the spun it brought to his head was good. Tony slowly relaxed and felt the guilt disappear. 

Halfway through his drink he decided to go to the bathroom. Standing up was a little difficult. He walked towards the door in zig zag. Once inside, he noticed how everything spun around him faster than before. He took a look at himself in the mirror. 

Damn. He was drunk again. 

He finished peeing, washed his hands and headed back. The torturous walk towards his table made the realization hit him. This was wrong. He had sworn he wouldn't do this.

Even if he tried, even if he decided to stop, he always ended up in the same place. 

Guilt returned stronger than ever. He felt himself panic. What if someone recognized him? What if they came up to him, talk to him and discovered he was drunk? He couldn't walk straight and he was pretty sure he would mumble himself to embarrassment. 

He felt very hot. The were tiny drops of sweat on the back of his neck. Every sound intensified, drumming in his ears like an out of pitch orchestra. He needed to get out of there. 

He took out his cellphone, trying to make focus on the blurry lines. 34 texts and 3 missed calls. He ignored them all, dialing just one number. 

"Steve?" 

* * *

Steve hanged up the phone and ran towards the door. He never heard Tony's voice so preoccupied. He sounded scared and trembling, nothing like the Tony he was accustomed to. 

It was almost ten and no one had seen Tony since the cancelled shoot. Nat was the last one to ride a car with him and hadn't talk to him in all afternoon. Steve thought it was weird but didn't pay much attention to it. He had his own thoughts to figure out. 

But Tony asked for Steve's help. He was at some bar down the road and didn't want to come back alone. Steve didn't understand much about the situation but agreed to go immediately. 

He took one of the studio’s cars and drove off. The hotel was placed outside the city limits so it was quicker than waiting for a cab. Besides, he had a feeling Tony might like the privacy. 

He parked outside the pub and headed in with hurried steps. The place was tranquil, blind to the situation at hand. He searched between the tables and saw Tony's head on the furthest booth. 

"Hi," said Steve, standing next to him. 

Tony looked up. His eyes were slightly out of focus and his hand was trembling. Besides him sat an empty glass of beer. 

"Steve," said Tony, dragging the word. "I'm sorry." 

Steve sat down in front of him. His cheeks were pink and his hair was pointing out in every direction. He was a mess. 

"What happened?" asked Steve in a hush whisper. Tony looked around, as if he expected someone to spy on them. 

"I knew this was a bad idea," said Tony, almost pouting. He never looked smaller. "I'm sorry, Steve. I just couldn't… I couldn't stop." 

Steve swallowed, Nat's words floating in his mind.  _ He's an addict _ . 

"Come on, let's get out of here," said Steve, getting up. 

He gestured the waiter to bring them the check. The young man came over, staring at them with a strange look in his eyes. Steve knew he they needed to leave before someone recognized them. 

The waiter handed him the check and Steve almost gasped at the amount of drinks Tony had ordered. No wonder he didn't trust himself to head back to the hotel alone. 

Steve put a hundred pounds in the waiter’s hand and told him to keep quiet. As soon as he said it, the waiter opened his eyes like plates. Well, now he surely recognized them. 

Steve helped Tony get up and they walked to the car. He said nothing when Tony almost fell down the three steps outside the pub. Steve opened the car door for Tony and waited for him to climbed inside. He walked around the car and sat on the driver's seat. 

"I needed to… needed to relax," mumbled Tony once Steve was inside. "There wasn't anything on my room so I… I came here."

Steve nodded, staring at Tony's hands. They were playing with his jacket's zipper. 

"I thought you didn't drink during work," he said, trying to sound unjudging. He had already screwed this up once. 

Tony shook his head. He kept quiet, trying to pace his breathing. Steve waited. 

"I try not to," whispered Tony. Steve felt his heart clench at the sheer sadness of his voice. "But sometimes it's stronger than me." 

Steve didn't know what to say. He never imagined to be in this position. Much less today, were meare hours ago Tony was kissing him. 

He didn't know what had provoked this, but he knew he had to listen. Tony was his friend. He needed to be there for him. 

"Do you want to go back already?" asked Steve softly. "Or you want us to stay here for a bit?" 

Tony shook his head with his eyes closed. He took a deep breath again, trying to calm himself

"Let's go," he said.

“Okay.”

Steve drove off, taking the highway to the hotel. They didn't say anything during the ride. Steve glanced a few times at Tony to see if he'd fallen asleep, but Tony was wide awake. 

They reached the hotel at midnight where everyone seemed to be in bed. Luckily for them, because Tony was swaying left and right, incapable of walking straight. Steve grabbed his arm and rode the elevator with him. 

He took the card key out of Tony's back pocket and entered his room. Tony dropped himself on the floor as soon as the door closed. 

"I'm so sorry, Steve. You don't deserve this," he said, looking up. Steve couldn't stand to look at those huge eyes when they were like this. 

"Why are you sorry? Nothing bad happened," said Steve. He sat down on the floor next to him. He briefly considered calling Nat. But Tony had asked only for Steve and he would respect that.

"Because I screw up. I screwed this up," said Tony, closing his eyes. "I'm gonna ruin this for us."

Steve was completely lost. He had no idea what Tony was getting at. Was he talking about drinking? About the movie? About… them? 

"What are you talking about, Tony?" asked Steve, trying to get his attention. He put a hand on his knee, hoping it wouldn't be too much. Tony didn't seem to mind. "Nothing is ruined." 

"I drank so much…." he said, voice beginning to tremble. "I knew I shouldn't have but I just… I just kept ordering and..."

Steve kept quiet. Tony needed to let it out. 

"I thought about it all day. I almost lost my mind waiting on that trailer," said Tony, finally opening his eyes. "Thank god you were there." 

Steve nodded, taking a leap and grabbing his hand. 

"I'll always be there for you, Tony. All of us will," he said, staring into his eyes.

Tony stared back. His eyes started to get glassy. 

"But why?" he whispered. A single drop raced down his cheek. Steve squeezed his hand. "I'm a time bomb, Steve. It's just a matter of time before I screw everything up."

"You won't," said Steve, bending closer to him. "We won't let you." 

"You don't understand…. I can't…" he muttered, voice breaking. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes hard, letting a few more tears drop. "I can't stop."

Steve got up on his knees and hugged him. He couldn't find the words to console him, but he needed to show him he was there. Tony put his arms around Steve’s waist and buried his face on the curve of his neck.

They stood there in moment of pure silence. Steve felt how his neck slowly got damped by Tony's tears. He thought he could wait for a thousand years just kneeling on this floor, if that was what Tony wanted. 

"I think I might have a problem," said Tony, bearly a whisper. If Steve's ear weren't right beside his mouth, he wouldn't have heard lt. 

Tony slowly untangled himself and faced Steve. He wasn't crying anymore but his eyes were still red and his breathing was still uneven. 

"I think I'm…" he trailed off. He looked down and swallowed, gathering himself. Steve waited patiently. Tony looked up again. "I think I need help"

Steve's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't expecting Tony to say that. He wasn't expecting any of this. 

"I think so too," whispered Steve softly.

Tony's eyes filled with tears again. He looked down and nodded, making the saddest smile Steve had seen. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Steve grabbed his hand, making small circles on the back of his palm. They sat there for a few minutes. Steve knew Tony was a proud man. This was a huge step for him. He needed to let the moment be. 

"My, uhm, head's killing me," said Tony finally, running his other hand through his hair. "I think I need to lay down." 

Steve nodded and helped him get up. They walked slowly towards the bed, taking off Tony's jacket. He kicked off his shoes and climbed to bed. 

Steve sat on his bedside and brushed a few tears off his cheek. Tony had a red nose and puffy lips. He was still beautiful even in this state. 

"I'll call someone tomorrow," said Tony, eyes already fluttering. "Im gonna work on this. I promise."

"I'll help you," said Steve, trying hard to invoke a smile. "Anything you need, I'll be there for you." 

Tony smiled back and closed his eyes. He fell back into his pillow and relaxed. His lips slightly parted and his breathing became completely stabilized. A few moments later and he was asleep. 

Steve took a last look at Tony and got up. He turned off the nightstand and headed to the door.

"Stay." 

He turned around. Even in the dark, Tony's bright eyes were still calling him. 

"Please," pleaded Tony's voice. "I don't want to be alone." 

Steve nodded, unsure he would see him. He took a few steps and stopped at the bed’s end. There was a armchair in the room that would be comfortable enough. He wanted to sleep in Tony's bed more than anything, but the situation wasn't right. This wasn’t the time. 

But he felt Tony’s would’ve wanted a bit more physical contact. Steve wanted to reassure him that everything would be okay. Steve wasn’t good with words, so he needed to show him in another way. He settled for dragging the armchair towards the side of the bed and sitting there. 

He extended his hand and grabbed Tony’s. He knew this wasn’t what Tony had meant, but he didn’t care. This time he was sure he knew what was best for them. 

Tony turned on his side, facing Steve. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, a small smile on his lips.

And with that, he fell asleep. 


	4. Do this right

Tony woke up slowly, feeling the morning light on his eyelids. The softness of the sheets begged him to stay still, but something on the back of his mind forced him to wake up. He opened his eyes. The hotel room was quiet, with just the sound of the wind bumping the window. Tony looked around, searching for Steve. He wasn’t anywhere to be found. A strong wave of disappointment filled his heart. 

He got up, dragging one feet at the time. Scotland’s morning’s where much colder than LA’s so getting out of bed was tricky. He looked for his phone. It was charging next to his nightstand, where Steve must have left it. 140 unread texts and 4 missed calls. Tony groaned, going through them all. 

Nat was the one who called him three times last night. Over text she’d asked him where he was like a thousand times. He responded her with a quick explanation of what happened yesterday. Rhodey had asked him about Steve and Happy had sent him today’s schedule. The rest was just group chats and memes from Clint. 

A message came in from Steve. 

_ Morning  _

_ Wanna grab some breakfast before heading off to set?  _

_ I might have some painkillers if needed  _

Tony smiled. Steve had been so nice to him last night. He had been in a really dark place and Steve had been a big comfort for him. It made him feel cared for. 

Tony sighed. His own words echoed in his head.  _ I need help.  _ What was he supposed to do now? His first instinct was to go back, to dismiss what he said as some drunken nonsense. But he knew that wasn't right. He’d known for a while now. He just never had the strength to put it in words. Being with Steve made him feel safe enough to say it. 

_ coming _

_ don’t eat all the eggs  _

He answered a few more texts and changed his clothes. He was still wearing yesterday's jeans and t-shirt. Tony would rather be caught dead than use the same outfit two days in a row. With a fresh purple dress shirt, black pants and a some hair product, he went towards the hotel’s lounge. 

Steve was waiting for him, sitting on their favorite table. There were two coffees, one large plate of eggs and a ton of fruit. 

“Hello,” said Tony, squeezing Steve’s shoulder before sitting down. Steve smiled at him with a touch of sadness in his eyes. 

“Hi. Are you feeling better?” he asked, putting sugar on his coffee. Tony nodded and sipped his cup, feeling the warmth go down his throat. 

“Yes, thank you. Last night was… embarrassing,” mumbled Tony, without meeting Steve’s eyes. “Thanks for sticking up with me.” 

Steve shook his head. “No problem. That’s what friends are for.” 

Tony smiled and grabbed a few pieces of banana. Steve was radiant today. He was wearing a blue polo shirt with clear jeans. His eyes reflected the morning sunshine in a way that looked like a painting. Tony sighed. He was surrounded by pure beauty. 

They fell into a easy chatter. Steve didn't press on the topic of alcohol, which Tony was grateful for. He wanted to forget about that and focus on his work. Today they would try to film the sequence shot again. The sky was blue and everything signaled that the storm had passed. They had to be on set at nine am to get into costume again and start rolling at twelve. 

Tony was a little afraid of this scene. It had been way too long since he had done something so physically demanding. The last full length film he worked on had been  _ The life of a self proclaimed pariah  _ and everything about that movie had been stagnant. He hadn't done a proper action scene since he was 29. It wasn’t the same now. Sure, he was fit. He hit the gym everyday. But doing a scene with so many stunts was like running a marathon. Tony didn’t know if he was ready. 

Steve couldn’t have understood him. He was enormous and Tony was pretty sure his heart could pump fuel into an airplane. That was were he shined.

After getting a text from Happy saying that everything was ready, they met with Natasha and rode to the set. The car was quiet, matching with the morning's solemn glow. 

“Thanks for disappearing last night, asshole,” said Nat a few miles in. Steve raised his eyebrows, probably surprised by Natasha’s sudden behavior. Tony had seen it coming. 

“Phone died" he lied. Natasha made a short, sharp laugh. 

“Yeah right” 

“100% true. Tell her, Steve. My phone died and I called you telepathically,” said Tony, words flowing rapidly like a gunfire. “It’s a rather useful tool of communication.” 

Nat glared at him. Steve looked as if he wanted to disappear. 

“You could’ve texted me too, Steve,” demanded Natasha, changing focus. Steve swallowed. “I'm his best friend” 

“Aw, you’re jealous!” intervened Tony, saving Steve completely from answering. He looked grateful. 

“I’m not jealous of this weird ass thing you’ve got going on. I just want to know when you’re in trouble,” said Nat, crossing her arms. She was so jealous. 

“I’m sorry” blurted out Tony suddenly and earnestly, surprising both Steve and Nat. They looked at him as if he had monkeys on his face. Wow, he really needed to own up to his mistakes more often. “I got drunk and called Steve to come pick me up. We had a nice chat after that” 

Steve turned around and smiled at him. For the first time in that morning, he looked happy. Tony grabbed his right hand, smiling back. He was sure that from this angle Nat wouldn’t have been able to see. Steve’s eyes brightened even more as Tony felt his heart warm. 

“Well I’m glad you got to have a heart to heart but drinking on the…”

“I’m going to get help,” he interrupted. Nat raised her eyebrows, completely shocked. “I know I’m… that I have a problem. I’m gonna fix it.” 

Steve squeezed his hand harder. It was tough, saying it out loud. But Nat was his best friend and Steve… well, he was Steve. He felt safe with them. He could be honest. 

They arrived at the location and each headed down to get into costume and make up. Tony loved his costume. It was a light robe that looked both stylish and historically accurate. But he had to admit the gold details and leather straps were a bit heavy. 

He felt very nervous. They had rehearse this scene a few times the week prior. Maximus was the center of the shot and he would have to transit all of the city looking for his friends. Characters were going to be left behind and a few houses would burn down. It was a really complex scene to pull off, but Carol was really excited about it. She liked doing sequence shots and the special effects were a new element for her. 

Tony breathed in and out, standing over his mark. The scene had a few black points to cut the shot, specially for the practical effects. The first bit was rather simple, he had to get out of his house and run down the muddy street. Steve’s character, Felix, would find him midway. They would then run straight until a big explosion stopped them on their tracks. The first cut was there. 

Carol yelled action and Tony ran, fast. The mud splashed on his legs and the sweat begun to form on his forehead. He found Steve and clenched to him like a lifeline. They finished the scene in one take and Tony sighed, relieved. Just a few more to go. 

They spent the day doing more takes, each more demanding than the last. Tony was the center of the action so he had to be on every one. By the 5th one, he felt immensely tired. His legs were burning and his heart was about to explode. 

The last take was with Natasha and Steve, the others having already escaped the lava. Their three characters had to climb a stone wall to get behind the line of fire. Tony almost fainted when he saw the wall’s stature. He knew would never make it. 

Natasha jumped and used her arms to pass to the other side. Tony was cued to go second, yet he stayed unmobile. 

“C’mon!” yelled Steve, still in character. Tony looked at him, eyes completely defeated.

“I can’t… iIcan’t do I... ” breathed out Tony, signaling the wall. “You'll have to-”

Steve interrupted him by grabbing him by the waist and pulling him up. Tony felt himself flying. Activating his reflexes, he grabbed onto the wall and jumped to the other side. Steve fell down a moment later and they kept running up the mountain. 

“Cut!” yelled Carol. 

Tony almost dropped to his knees. He was too tired, too out of breath. Steve put a hand on his back and soon enough someone was offering him some water. He saw Carol’s legs in front of him. 

“Tony, are you okay?” she asked, voice a bit worried. 

He took a moment to gather himself and the spoke up.

“Yes, I'm sorry. I’m not as resilient as I used to be,” he said as firmly as he could. Carol clasped her lips. 

“You have to tell us if you’re tired, Tony. We can take a break whenever you need,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I just wanted to finish the take. Thank God Steve was quick on his feet,” said Tony, deviating the attention. Steve smiled and looked away, flustered. 

“Well, working with you has made me sharp,” he said. Tony grinned at that statement. 

“Yes, we’re lucky to have a supersoldier among us,” sassed Carol, earning a teasing glare from Steve. "But we have to take care of you too. Pepper will kill me if I break you."

Even if Tony insisted he was fine, Carol talked with Happy and decided to call off the rest of the day’s shoot. They were fairly on shechulde, even with yesterday’s throwback. Tony had nailed almost every shot on the first few takes, which made everything much quicker. He was extremely relieved that he hadn’t messed anything up. Years of bad habits could destroy your physical performance.

He took a quick shower and walked out of his trailer. The crew were cleaning up everything for tomorrow. Tony saw Carol talking to a beautiful, tall redhead. Pepper. 

Tony felt his heart jump. He loved Pepper. Not in a romantic way, at least not anymore. But she had believed in him since day one. Tony felt an immense gratitude towards her. And now he realized how much suffering he had put her through. Pepper had been the first person to ever tell him to stop drinking. Tony wasn't as nearly as troubled as he became two years after, but she still had seen the signs. It had been after their last movie together,  _ Double Edge.  _ She told him that either he seeked help or she wouldn't produce any more movies with him. Tony told her that she was overreacting, that he only drank for fun. That discussion escalated into a full blown fight. They broke up shortly after that and didn't talk for months. 

They became civil over the years and managed to mend their relationship. Pepper even told him that she was willing to work with him again. It wasn’t her fault the opportunity had only now arissen. 

He now realized he needed to make some apologizes. Or at least, talk to her. 

“Hey, Pep,” he said, opening his arms to invite her to a hug. 

“Tony,” greeted Pepper, hugging him tightly. Almost if she knew. Everything was possible. 

“I’ll let you two catch up, I need to go talk to Natasha,” said Carol and left. 

Only he and Pepper remained on this part of the set. Even so, Tony wanted to go somewhere a bit more private. 

“Do you wanna go grab a cup of coffee?” he asked her. 

Pepper smiled and nodded. 

“Let me finish up a couple of things here. Then we’ll go to a little place I know.”

Tony nodded and went to his trailer to collect his things. Steve had texted him to ride home together but he told him he needed to talk with Pepper. He understood. 

Half an hour later, Pepper came to fetch him. They drove to a gigantic tea house that was placed on top of a cliff. It was really classy, with the sort of sophistication that Pepper loved. Tony smiled when he saw the pretty tables and the soft music. It reminded him of her. 

They sat down and ordered tea. Tony had really wanted coffee, but she convinced him to at least try the jazmin blend. 

“How’s the shoot going?” she asked when the waiter brought them their tea and biscuits. “Carol told me it was a little rough for you today.” 

Tony laughed. “So she ratted me out, huh? Best to know who not to trust.” 

Pepper smiled, giving him that look he’d missed all these years. 

“You can trust her. She’s really impressed by you, actually,” said Pepper, sipping her cup. 

“Yeah, sure,” dismissed Tony with a hand gesture. 

“I'm serious, she’s told me a few times how good you are,” she said. “Of course I already knew, so I get to take the credit for pitching you in” 

“Oh, is that so?” he said, amused. “Well I'm glad I get to boost your career for once”

“You’ve always boosted my career. It was your own that you’ve been dragging,” said Pepper, smile falling a bit. Straight to the point, as always. Tony was actually glad, he didn’t know how else to start that conversation. 

“Yeah, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you" said Tony. The words that usually came so easily were hard to find. “I, uhm… been thinking.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah…. I need to… “ mumbled Tony. He took a deep breath to reorder his thoughts. Pepper waited, patiently. “I need to tell you something. Well, to apologize, really.” 

Pepper raised her dedicated sculpted eyebrows. 

“Is that so?” she asked softly. Maybe Natasha had already told her, they were close. 

“Yes, I'm sorry. About what I put you through back then. I wasn’t, uhm, stable,” he said, playing with a napkin. He tried to find the will to look at her in the eyes. She deserved it. “You were right, I needed help and I refused to get it.” 

Pepper sighed and took his hand. Tony smiled and made tiny circles on her palm. He missed her. Maybe not their relationship, but her. Pepper was strong and took no bullshit from anyone. Not even Tony. That made him a better man back then. But he couldn’t depend on other people to grow. It wasn’t fair to either of them. 

“I'm glad you think that now. You made me very happy, Tony. But I couldn’t keep watching you destroy yourself,” she said, shaking lightly her head. 

Tony nodded and prepared himself for what followed. 

“I won’t drink any more. Full stop. Not even a glass of wine with dinner. I, uhm, need to change all this,” he said and looked at her in the eyes. She gave him a tender smile and squeezed his hand. “I’ll be hard, but I’ll try my best.”

“It will be, but I know you, Tony. There’s nothing on this planet you can’t achieve. You’re the most stubborn person I know,” she said, letting go of his hand and sitting up straight. 

Tony laughed.

“That must be quite and accomplishment. Judging by how stubborn  _ you  _ are.”

Pepper made a face but immediately broke down in laughter. She looked happy. 

“I missed this,” he said. There was something about Pepper that made him feel that it was okay to be vulnerable. 

“I missed it too,” she said softly. “Working with you has been the stepping point of my career. No one will say it, but what you bring to set is breathtaking.” 

“And what I bring to bed?” he joked, hoping it wouldn’t be too out of line. 

Pepper huffed. 

“Everyone says that, it’s not original.” 

Tony laughed, hard. He’d been dreading this conversation all morning. Hell, he'd been avoiding this for years. But now that he said it, now that the words where out in the open, he felt relieved. A big weight was lifted off his shoulders. He could breathe. 

They spent a few more hours chatting about old memories. Pepper was incredible at remembering tiny details of things Tony had completely forgotten. Over the top performances, jokes that went too far, a few pranks they made on Rhodey. Reliving his best years with her was like watching an old movie. Some parts he knew by heart, but some small bits surprised him again. 

When they asked for the check it was almost nine. Pepper didn’t want him to be too exhausted for tomorrow so she took him to the hotel. It was amazing how she knew everything that was going down with the movie even when she wasn’t on set. Most producers didn't even read the whole script. Yet Pepper had studied every single detail of what they’ve been doing. 

The ride back was dazzled by a feeling of contempt. Tony had thoroughly enjoyed himself. He remembered a time where all he wanted to do was go back to Pepper. To hold her in their gigantic bed and kiss her long, soft neck. It was weird to realize that none of those feelings had survived. He felt a profound affection towards her, but the nature of it had changed completely. Now, when he pictured himself sleeping at night it wasn’t with her. 

He took out his phone to text Steve. He told him he would arrive in a few more minutes so they could have dinner together. It was a fairly common thing for them. He always ate with someone; Nat and Rhodey, Clint, even sometimes with Happy. But he mostly had dinner with Steve. It was something of a routine by now. 

Pepper peeked at his phone and made a smug smile. 

“Carol told me something else,” she said nonchalant. 

“What?” 

“That you and Steve were getting pretty close,” she said, amused. 

Tony frowned.

“Yeah, so? He’s my friend,” he said simply. Pepper nodded, still wearing that smug smile. 

“Nat said you two kissed.” 

He was gonna kill Nat. Of course she ran round telling everyone. That little gossip.

“It was a dare, so.” 

“That you made yourself!” she said with a triumphant voice. 

Tony groaned and laid back on the seat. This was a losing battle. 

“You had to be there… it made sense at the time,” mumbled Tony. 

“Yeah, sure" 

Pepper then kept quiet, probably waiting for Tony to come around. They were close to the hotel. The lights on the road danced on the black pavement and it was properly dark outside. Somehow the car felt like a private place. Tony sighed. 

“I like him” he said softly. Pepper looked at him. “A lot” 

“I can tell,” she said. “I haven’t seen you this smitten in a while”

“I’m not smitten!” he complained, crossing his arms. 

“Yes, you are. You’re completely smitten,” said Pepper, amused. “You got a text from him and your face lighted up like a christmas tree.”

Tony huffed. “Well it makes no difference, because I won’t do anything" 

“Why?” she asked, frowning. “I’m sure he likes you too. Nat has been sending me pics of you two backstage.” 

Tony decided to ignore the gigantic gossip that Nat had turned into. 

“He might, but I can’t risk anything. You know how much of a screw up I can be,” said Tony with a sigh. “If i mess things up with Steve the production will be a mess” 

Pepper raised her eyebrows and looked at him completely unimpressed. 

“What?” asked Tony, frowning. 

“Nothing,” she said, looking away. 

“What is it?” he said exasperated. 

“I just didn’t take you as a coward,” she said simply. 

“What does that mean?” he demanded, surprised. Pepper shrugged. 

“You're afraid you really like this guy. You’re scared you’re gonna get hurt,” explained Pepper as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet. 

“No, I'm not scared, Pep. I just don’t want this to jeopardize the movie. You should understand that,” answered Tony. She was making no sense. Tony wasn’t afraid of anything, he was just doing the mature thing. The professional thing, for a change. 

“Tony” called Pepper, looking at him with the zero bullshit stare. “I’ve known you for 15 years. You sleep with whoever you want, whenever you want. You’ve slept with co stars, directors, interns, you name it. Why is this time different?”

Tony stared at her. It was true, he had slept with a lot of coworkers. But that was before his exile from the industry. He did a lot of things back then that he regretted. The impunity he had left him completely detached from the real word. Actions had consequences and he hadn't been able to realize that until he woke up in a cell bathed in his own vomit. This time had to be different. He needed to do everything right. He needed to be on his top game. 

“It’s different because I want to do things right” he said, determined. “I did a lot of awful shit back then and that got me casted away. I won’t repeat it" 

Pepper stared at him. Then, she looked away, clasping her lips. 

“Tony, I’m gonna be honest with you,” she said, suddenly very serious. “Because I’ve always been. What got you  _ casted away _ wasn’t that you liked to kiss everyone you worked with. It was the five consecutive newsletters with your drunk face on it.” 

Tony swallowed. That hurted. He tried to forget about those episodes so hard he hadn’t thought about them in years. It was the pit of his life, the lowest he’s gotten. The scandals consumed him back then so he tried to distance himself from them. It was embarrassing to just think about it.

“I know, I know...” he whispered, looking away. “I’m sorry, again.” 

Pepper took one of his hands.

“It’s okay. What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t confuse things,” she said softly. Tony looked at her. “Kissing Steve is not the same as getting drunk on national television.” 

Tony took a deep breath and nodded. Maybe there was something else holding him back. The terrifying notion of putting himself out there.

“I hate it when you’re right,” he said with a huff. Pepper laughed and let go of his hand. 

“Well you must be a pretty hateful person because I’m right all the time.” 

The car parked outside the hotel and they said goodbye. It had been a long day, longer than he imagined. He almost forgot about the terrific scene they had done earlier. He felt exhausted. As soon as he stepped out of the car he started daydreaming about his silk sheets and soft pillows. 

But there was still one thing on his list. Steve was waiting for him. He was sitting at their favorite table in the dining room, playing with his phone. Tony smiled. He could stay up for a bit longer. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

"Action!" yelled Carol from her high chair. 

Tony grabbed Steve's wrist and ran through the forest. This was their last scene of the day. It was fairly simple, they had to reach the highest stone on the mountain. Then, they would take a moment to breathe and watch the destroyed city. Tony was sure he would nail that part, but he knew Steve was nervous about it. He wasn't used to the quiet, meaningful scenes. 

Steve jumped on the rock and extended his hand so Nat and Tony could climb on it. Once Tony was on his feet again, he hugged Steve, almost falling on him. It wasn't on the script but Tony didn't care, he knew this is what Maximus would've done. 

Steve held him tightly and rested his face on his neck. Good. He always followed. When they broke apart Tony almost lost his breath. 

Steve was destroyed. He had a few tears coming down his cheeks and an expression so profound Tony almost missed his cue. They both looked at the horizon, watching how everything was destroyed by the (invisible) lava. 

Steve spoke with a broken voice, telling them they needed to find refuge. Tony nodded, squeezing Steve's shoulder. 

"Cut!" said Carol through the megaphone. "Amazing, guys! That's what I'm talking about." 

Steve rubbed his eyes and laughed, relieved by Carol's validation. Tony still felt dumbfounded. Steve had nailed the scene in a way Tony didn't saw coming. 

He knew Steve was a better actor than he previously thought. He could follow his banter and deliver his lines with an unique grace. But the range he showed in this scene, going from complete adrenaline to anguish, was amazing. Tony felt proud of him. 

"You were great," whispered Tony in Steve's ear. Somehow it felt inappropriate, they were surrounded by the whole crew. 

"So were you," he whispered back, nose touching Tony's cheek. 

He swallowed. Steve was smiling at him, cheeks still flushed from the run. 

"Jesus Christ, get a room already," complained Nat beside them, exasperated. 

She passed between them, setting them apart, and went to chat with Carol. Tony laughed a bit embarrassed about it and shook his head. 

When he looked up Steve was still staring at him. His blue eyes were tinted with something Tony could recognize anywhere. 

"Okay, that completes our awesome sequence scene," said Carol with a loud voice. "A round of applause everyone!" 

Tony broke away from Steve's stare and started clapping. The crew erupted in cheers and a few guys went to congratulate them. Carol looked pleased, they ended up spending an extra day on this scene, but it had come out great. Tony only felt relieved that he could manage to do everything without puking. The rest of the shoot would be a cakewalk on comparison. 

They went to change to their trailers while the crew dismantled everything. Tony took a quick shower to clean off the dirt and sweat. He really didn't like feeling so icky. He put on clean clothes and headed outside, already taking out his phone to text Steve. 

“Tones! Gather your stuff, we’re going out” said Rhodey, bumping into him a few steps away from the trailers.

“Out? It’s wednesday,” answered Tony, scratching his head. The reality was that he didn't have a problem with going out on a weekday; he was simply exhausted. 

“Yeah, but we need to celebrate today’s score. Chief’s orders,” said Rhodey, flashing a silly grin. He loved addressing Carol as an authority figure. Tony had his suspicions why. 

“I don’t know, Rhodey. I’m kinda tired….” tried saying Tony. 

“Oh, c’mon! Everyone’s going, even heart eyes,” said Rhodey, nodding towards Steve, who was talking to a few crew members. Tony clasped his lips and looked away, faintly embarrassed. 

“Why would that make a difference?” he said, flustered. 

Rhode looked at him unimpressed. Tony felt small against his stare. 

“Oh, okay!” he said, hands flying everywhere. “You win, let’s go.” 

Carol was big on bonding exercises and group dynamics. She was also very methodical. So when she took the 20 people working that day to an already booked bar, Tony got the feeling that this may have been planned from the beginning. 

The place was a common Scotland bar on the city’s proximities. The only difference was that when they arrived there were already 5 tables set for them. Tony wanted this thing to go by quickly, so he could just succumb to bed. He was also tense about being surrounded by beer and wine. 

“Hey,” whispered Steve in his ear as they waited for everyone to find a seat. Tony felt as every hair on his neck stood up and almost leaned into him. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be here the entire time" 

Tony swallowed. He thought he was a great actor, but lately Steve had been able to see right through him. He nodded and they sat down next to each other. 

Their table had a familiar feel to it. Clint and Natasha in front of them and Rhodey on the header. Dinners back in the hotel used to have the same dynamic, only here there were a lot more noise and people chatting besides them. 

“Wow, Stark. You look completely destroyed,” commented Clint without holding back. Tony just chuckled. Clint had grown on him. 

“Yeah, my legs are killing me. Seven months in the gym for nothing,” he said, earning a few laughs. 

“They weren’t for nothing...” muttered Steve abstently, looking at the chart. 

Before Tony could ask for a follow up, the waiter came to take their orders. They asked for a few portions of fries with melted cheese and a shit ton of pints. Tony ordered water and was immensely relieved when no one asked why. 

“Steve, you were amazing today,” said Nat a little after their fries arrived. They had already drinked half of their beers and there was a friendly buzz in the air. Tony felt weird about being the only one completely sober. 

“Yeah dude, you almost made me cry,” mumbled Clint, mouth full of fries. 

“Dude, close your mouth!” said Rhodey, shaking his head. Clint just ignored him. 

“Thank you, guys,” said Steve, looking rather bashful. Tony knew he wasn’t used to so many compliments. He would make sure to change that. 

“Really, Steve. You almost made me lost my cue a few times,” said Tony. 

Steve stared at him with those deep blue eyes again. Then, he smiled as if only Tony existed in this world. Tony looked away, not wanting to be too obvious in front of their castmates. But something about Steve’s presence, something about this day, made him be bold. He slowly moved his leg under the table until it bumped into Steve’s. 

“You’re being too nice to me. I think you’re just amazed I can run faster than all of you combined,” joked Steve, looking back at the table. The others laughed and Clint swallowed, preparing himself to counteract. 

Tony thought Steve hadn’t notice his leg under the table, until he moved his foot against him. His heart skipped a beat. Suddenly Steve seemed much more closer than before. Even if he was looking away, acting as if nothing happened. 

“That’s not fair. My character has a broken limb. I could out run you anyday,” protested Clint, shaking his head. 

“Clint, please,” said Natasha. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

“I’ve seen you at the gym, bud,” said Tony. He bent over, as if he were about to tell a secret. In reality, he just used the movement to drop his hands under the table. “You’re pretty slow on the treadmill.” 

Rhodey and Natasha laughed. She put a hand on Clint’s shoulder and patted him. Clint frowned and crossed his arms. 

“That’s just because I’m building up resistance!” he objected. 

Tony raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. With one smooth movement, he put a hand on Steve’s leg. He held his breath, hoping it wouldn’t be too much. 

“Don’t worry Clint. I can take your offer any day,” said Steve, making a fake kind smile. 

Tony resisted the urge to look directly at him. He was glad he did, because when he felt Steve’s fingers brush his own, he made the stupidest smile ever. To hide it, he grabbed his water and took a sip. Nat stared at him funny, but didn’t say anything. 

“Anyway! Nat has a big scene tomorrow,” said Clint, purposefully ignoring Steve’s dare, which earned him a few chuckles. Nat took her eyes away from Tony. 

“Yeah, Carol and I have been talking about it for weeks,” she said, nodding. 

Steve separated his hand from Tony’s. 

“You nervous?” asked Rhodey, putting down his empty glass. 

Tony felt Steve’s hand again, only this time it was on his leg. He swallowed. 

“A little. But I’m looking forward to it” said Nat, making a small smile. 

Steve started moving his thumb up and down against Tony. 

“Have you decided how you’re gonna play it?” asked Clint, shoving more fries in his mouth. 

Tony retrieved his hand from Steve’s leg and put it on top of Steve's hand, interviewing their fingers. Steve kept making circles on his inner thigh. 

“Yes, I don’t want a big, Oscar-batey scene,” she explained. “Just a quiet, thoughtful moment. Carol agrees.”

“She usually goes for more natural performances,” commented Steve. 

Tony looked at him. They way he said it, how his voice didn’t tremble even a bit, made Tony felt challenged. Almost offended. He could also pretend to be unbothered. 

“That’s what I like about her,” said Tony. He squeezed Steve’s hand and slowly made it climb up his leg. “She lets us do what comes natural” 

From the corner of his eye he saw how Steve’s mouth curved ever so slightly. Tony felt Steve’s fingers caressing his groin and almost gasped. 

“She also lets us improvise a lot. That’s awesome,” said Steve nonchalant. 

“That’s easy for you guys to say,” added Clint. “You two are like the masters of improv.” 

Steve smiled and looked down. Tony knew Steve was only now letting himself improvise so the compliment must’ve felt good. Tony decided he wouldn’t be outshined. 

He flew his hand to Steve’s leg again and rubbed it up and down. He wasn't’ being as nearly as subtle as Steve was. If the others noticed how Tony’s shoulder was moving, they would get suspicious. The thought alone aroused him. 

“You’re pretty good too, Clint,” said Nat, smiling at him. Tony was glad her attention was elsewhere. “You’ve made me laugh my ass off.” 

“Is that all I am to you? A jokester?” said Clint, pretending to be hurt. 

Tony grew tired of only touching Steve’s leg and went for more. He caressed his inner thigh until he reached Steve’s crotch. Tony swallowed as he felt how hard Steve already was. 

Feeling the manifestation of what he was doing made Tony dizzy. Maybe this was wrong. Not because of the public space or the fact that their boss was five seats away, but because of Steve. What if Steve didn’t want Tony the same way as Tony wanted him?

Nat’s voice faded in the distance as did his thoughts when Steve’s hand cupped his dick. He repressed a moan as he felt the pressure of Steve's fingers working him over his pants. Any and all objections he had to this disappeared and the pure, raw, want became stronger than anything else. He wanted this. He wanted Steve. 

He was slightly aware that his lips were parted and his vision unfocused. But he could only care about Steve against his hand and Steve’s hand against him. It made him feel like a teenager again, playing footsie with classmates and jerking off in empty locker rooms. 

Natasha said something. Then Clint said something. Hell, even Steve was talking. All Tony could do was smile and nod when he felt it appropriate. He was afraid of how his voice would come out if he spoke. 

“We should probably ask for the check,” said Carol’s voice over everyone’s chatter. Tony swallowed. If he wanted to get up he needed to calm down. 

He used all of his willpower to take his hand away from Steve’s dick and grab Steve’s wrist. It was enough. It was stupid. If they had to get up right now every single person he worked with would see how hard he was. Somehow it all seemed worth it. 

He looked at Steve. He was laughing at something Clint said in a way that made his eyes light up. His smile was wide and his cheeks were slightly blushed. Tony could stare at him for hours. Studying his nose, his cheekbones, the curve of his lips. 

Steve turned around and caught Tony staring at him. His smile shifted to something more genuine, more private. Tony licked his lips, repressing a sigh. Steve was everything he wanted right now. But they were surrounded by loud, gossipy costars. 

“Tony, hey!” called Rhodey, breaking the spell. “I’m talking to you, man.” 

Tony turned around to see the whole table staring at him. He had no idea what they were talking about. 

“I'm sorry, I'm just really tired,” he mumbled, hoping it would be enough. Nat rolled her eyes and chuckled. She knew. 

“Leave him be Rhodey, he’s old,” joked Clint, taking out his wallet to grab some cash. “Long scenes exhaust him.” 

“Ha-ha. Laugh all you want,” said Tony, subtly shifting his pants to hide his erection. “but when the nominations come know that it was this tired old ass that saved the movie.” 

Steve bumped his shoulder into him. 

“I don’t know man, you don't show that ass in the entire movie,” he joked. “I feel robbed somehow.” 

“Second that!” jumped Nat, making everyone laugh. 

Tony raised his eyebrows at Steve and gave him a filthy smile. 

“Why, Steve? You only had to ask,” he said, dropping his eyes to Steve’s lips. 

Steve smiled and put a hand on his Tony’s back. Clin groaned and put his head between his hands. 

“Why did we invite them? They’ve been like this all day,” he complained. 

Rhodey shrugged and grabbed the pile of money they had put on the center of the table. 

“I think they’re cute,” he simply said. 

Tony turned around to reject the notion of him being “cute” but the waiter came to recollect the money. He huffed. Maybe he could let it slide. 

They all got up and started putting on their coats. It was a really cold night, even if it was mid summer. Scotland’s temperatures dropped hard. Tony wrapped a puffy scarf around his neck. He was glad he brought like 75% of his wardrobe, even if that meant he had to pay extra to check in his luggage. 

A few cars were waiting for them outside. The majority of them were staying at the hotel, but Carol was staying at a cottage and a few crew members were actually locals. So only three cars went back to the hotel.

Clint jumped at the first chance to travel back with a few other people he liked, leaving Steve and Tony with Rhodey and Natasha. Tony may have made a maneuver to make Rhodey go in the passenger seat so Steve could be next to him. Natasha rolled her eyes but agreed to let Tony sit in the middle. 

The ride back home was full of chatter, like back in the pub. Nat and Rhodey seemed a little buzzed from the beers so they kept talking loudly about the day. Tony tried to participate, but a few minutes in he fell asleep. 

“Hey,” whispered Steve when the car stopped. “We’re here” 

Tony opened his eyes and only saw Steve’s shirt. He was leaning onto Steve’s shoulder. He mumbled something about needing a few more minutes and closed his eyes again. Steve laughed, shaking his body under Tony. 

“C’mon, buddy. I’m sure your bed is comfier than me,” he said, squeezing Tony’s knee. 

He agreed to get up reluctantly and got out of the car. Natasha was chatting with Rhodey beside them. Tony scratched his head and waited for Steve to pay the driver. 

He felt completely exhausted. A part of him was hoping to drag Steve back to his room and kiss him until oblivion, but he couldn’t even keep his eyes open. He cursed his stupid body and its need for energy. 

Steve got out of the cab and Nat and Rhodey took it as a sign to start walking. Tony made a loud yawn and scratched his eyes. He briefly thought about begging Steve to carry him into the hotel. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, really. Steve was huge and Tony was sure he was strong enough to carry a bear. 

He settled for just grabbing Steve’s arm and dropping half of his weight on him. Steve didn’t seem to mind. They walked inside the hotel and said goodbye to Rhodey and Nat, who didn’t even flinch when Steve stayed beside Tony. 

“I’m too tired, you have to walk me to bed,” whined Tony, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. “I may fall and break my nose. Then we’ll have to cancel the movie.” 

Steve laughed and nodded. 

“Okay, we can’t have that.” 

Steve dragged him to the elevator while Tony gathered all his strength to not fall asleep right there. The high blip sounded and the doors opened. Tony stumbled inside and turned around. A moment later, his feet lifted from the floor and he bumped against the wall. Steve’s strong hands were grabbing him by his armpits, firmly holding him. Then, his mouth clashed into his. 

Tony’s mind flew away. Steve was kissing him hurriedly, with palpable impatience. Tony felt himself melt in Steve’s strong arms. Thinking about how he was effortlessly lifting him up was intoxicating. He kissed back, closing his eyes and letting himself feel everything. Steve’s tongue inside his mouth, his wet lips, the way his fingers digged into Tony’s skin.

“I know you’re tired,” mumbled Steve into his mouth. “I just couldn’t resist.” 

He kept kissing him. Tony used all of his energy to show him how much he needed this too. Steve broke away from Tony’s mouth and started sucking on his jaw, then travelled around his cheek towards his ear. Tony stretched his neck to give him all the space he pleased. 

“You drive me crazy, Tony,” he whispered, biting down his earlobe. Tony moaned, feeling a shiver go down his spine. “I’ve been waiting for this all day. Hell, all month.”

Tony couldn’t articulate words. He was lost in the feeling of Steve tongue on his skin. 

“And when you touched me today… “ he breathed out, travelling down his neck. “I thought about jumping on you right there.” 

He sucked on hard on his neck and Tony grabbed hard onto his hair. Why would he ever deny himself this? Steve was making him feel like nothing else mattered. He didn’t remember the last time he felt his aroused. Maybe in a dream, maybe thinking about Steve. 

He pulled Steve’s hair back and kissed him fearlessly. His mind had only one word in it.  _ Steve. Steve. Steve. Steve.  _

The elevator’s door opened and the cold wind slapped them hard. They were still in public. Steve slowly put him down and Tony almost forgot how to use his legs. He took a moment to catch his breath and looked at Steve. His eyes were blown dark and his lips were swollen. He looked like a mess. 

“Come with me,” said Tony, grabbing him by the hand. They were just a few steps away from his room. 

Tony thought about his possibilities. He really wanted Steve to make him scream out of pleasure, but even walking felt like a tiresome feat. He sighed. Tonight wouldn’t be the night. 

They stood in front of his door. Tony thought about all the times this same scene repeated. This time it felt different. 

Steve sighed and brushed Tony’s lips with his thumb. 

“I’ll leave you to sleep,” he whispered and kissed his cheek with a softness that made Tony’s heart jump. 

Steve then turned around, looking defeated. He took a step forward but Tony grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay,” he asked. Steve looked at him, slightly confused. Under the yellow lights of the hotel corridor, he looked eternal. “Please, I just… I want to be with you.”

Tony opened the door and gestured Steve to walk in. He looked at him again and then slowly entered the room. Tony followed, closing the door behind him. They were alone at last. 

“Tony, I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable-” 

“Don’t,” interrupted Tony. “I’m too tired to do all the things I want to do to you. But I really want to be with you.” 

He intertwined their fingers and held Steve’s gaze. 

“Okay,” whispered Steve. 

“You have to sleep on the bed this time,” joked Tony, turning away. 

Tony striped off his clothes and got into bed with only his boxers. Maybe it was a little cruel of him to make Steve watch knowing he couldn’t touch. But he liked the idea of frustrating Steve by only showing him a little skin. He turned on his side, facing the wall and waited for Steve to get under the sheets. 

He heard a rumble behind him as the bed dipped. Steve’s body was radiating heat even from the distance. Tony turned around to grab Steve’s arm and made him hug him. He heard Steve swallowed, and then he settled his legs in between Tony’s. It was warm. It made him feel safe. 

Tony closed his eyes, finally being able to sleep. This time, he only dreamt about Steve. 

  
  
  


* * *

When he woke up, he first noticed he was hard. Then, he noticed how Steve’s erection was pushing up against his ass. He was still asleep, arm tight around Tony’s waist. 

Tony smiled. Yesterday had been a great day for him. The scene that was bothering him was completed and more importantly, Steve had kissed him. This time he wouldn’t back out, he wouldn’t run and drink himself away. He was ready for this. 

He pressed himself against Steve and slowly rocked his hips. Steve open his eyes and let out a quiet groan. 

“Morning,” whispered Tony, turning around his head so he could kiss Steve’s parted lips. 

Steve smiled and hugged him closer. The pressure of his firm arms made him shiver. 

“Morning,” he said, placing a kiss on Tony’s neck.

Tony turned around completely to face him. It was sad to separate his butt from Steve’s dick but he needed to look at him. His blond hair was pointing in every direction and his eyes were half open, still sleepy. Even so, Tony thought this was the face people talked about when they said moviestar. 

Steve put a hand on his cheek and kissed him. The domesticity of it all overwhelmed Tony. He was laying on his bed, waking up to Steve’s embrace. He was kissing him as if they truly belonged together. 

“Steve, I… “ tried saying Tony, but Steve’s lips caught his again. 

“Shh… just” shushed Steve, closing his eyes. Tony hummed, happily kissing him back. “Just a little longer.” 

“We have to get ready…” whispered Tony. Steve nodded absently and nuzzled down his neck. Tony closed his eyes, enjoying how Steve’s breath bumped against his bare skin. The little pecks on his collarbone made Tony forget what he wanted to say. 

“We’ll get there in time,” said Steve, too concentrated on a particular spot between his neck and shoulder. “I want to memorize you.” 

Tony inhaled sharply when Steve sucked hard on his skin. He ventured a hand down Steve’s back, aching for more contact. 

“Why memorize me?” he mumbled against Steve’s hair. His hand reached Steve’s waist and pulled him closer. “You see me every day.” 

Steve hummed and pushed his leg in between Tony’s. The silent rock of their hips was making Steve’s groin brush against Tony’s. He lost himself in the feeling.

“Yes, but not like this,” he said, kissing up Tony’s neck again. “I can’t risk forgetting you if we don’t see each other again.” 

Tony stopped in his tracks. Was that what Steve wanted? A morning blowjob and off to work? Maybe he just wanted to keep being friends afterwards. Tony’s heart clenched at the notion. He had wanted Steve so badly, for quite some time now. He finally got to kiss him, to hug him, but suddenly he felt scare it would all banish. If Steve fucked him on this matress and then continued on acting as if they were only close friends, Tony wouldn’t recover. What if the heartbreak was too much? What if the only way to numb it were with alcohol?

He slowly freaked out about the possibility of being left alone with a broken heart and a bottle of scotch. This couldn’t end well. He would ruin the movie. 

He tensed up, hiding his face from Steve. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Steve, finally separating himself from Tony’s skin. 

“What do you want from me?” questioned Tony, looking at the sheets. 

Steve looked taken aback. 

“What do you mean?” he said, sounding wounded. “I think I’ve been pretty clear.” 

Tony bit his lip and looked up to meet Steve’s eyes. 

“I know how this goes, Steve. We fuck, we have a great time, and then you leave. That’s how it always goes.” he explained with a hushed voice. Steve stared at him, mouth thin as a line. “I’ve done that a million times. But I don’t know if I can do it with you.”

Steve retrieved his hands from Tony’s waist and frowned. He looked frustrated and confused.

“I don’t understand you, Tony,” he said, putting some distance between them. Tony felt cold as his legs weren’t touching Steve anymore. “ _ You _ invited me to your bedroom,  _ you  _ touched my leg last night,  _ you  _ dared me to kiss you. Why did you do all that if you don’t wanna be with me?” 

“I do, I want to be with you,” countered Tony. “That’s the problem. I want every last piece of you. I want the breakfasts and the late nights and I want to run every line with you. If we do this and you leave, all of that is gone. It's gonna hurt too much.” 

Steve stared at him as if he were talking about nuclear physics. Tony felt exposed by the vulnerability of his sentence and Steve watching him like that only made it worse. 

“What do you mean, if I leave?” asked Steve, looking like he was trying to put two and two together. 

“Well, you’ve said it. This might be just a one time thing for you,” said Tony. His own words hurt him like daggers. 

“When did I said that?” said Steve, even more confused.

Tony stared at him for a moment and saw how realization hit Steve’s face. Then, Steve abruptly started laughing. 

“What is so funny?” demanded Tony, offended. 

Steve rubbed his eyes, smiling widely. He was grinning as if this were the most ridiculous thing in the world. 

“Everyone says you’re brilliant but you’re as dense as the rest of us, huh?” he said, trying to even out his breathing. 

Tony frowned, feeling even more insulted than before. 

“Well I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know you were such a player,” he said, ager filling his voice. 

Steve just looked at him and started laughing again. Tony pushed his shoulder, trying to make him stop. 

“Stop it!” he said. “I swear I’m gonna push you out of bed.” 

Steve shaked his head and covered his mouth with his hand, trying to calm himself. Then, he grabbed Tony’s face and kissed him hard. 

“Of course I wanna be with you, Tony,” said Steve, breaking the kiss. “I wanna spend every minute of every hour with you. I just thought you only wanted to fool around ” 

Tony stared at him dumbfounded. 

“What?” he mumbled, completely confused. 

“All this time I thought you were avoiding me because you knew how I felt,” explained Steve, making the biggest, most dumbest smile Tony had seen. “Turns out you had absolutely no idea. You’re an idiot!” 

Tony had never been called that by someone acting so happy. Maybe he was an idiot. He couldn't quite process the idea of Steve wanting to be with him. Why? Tony was a mess. He was an unstable, emotionally stunted, mess. Why would Steve want him for more than just fooling around? It made no sense. 

“I… just… if… what?” he mumbled, completely overwhelmed. 

Steve laughed and kissed him again. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, every muscle in his body aching for Steve’s touch. He kissed him back, still numbed. 

“I adore you, Tony Stark,” whispered Steve in his ear. “I’m gonna spend everyday making sure you know that.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I'm really grateful for everyone following this story. What your comments and kudos mean to me is really indescribable, thank you so much!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is really close to my heart. I've been working on it for a while now and it's mostly complete. It'll have regular updates through out the month. I hope you guys like it! 
> 
> Shout out to my friend, beta and mentor lu who's always making me be better. I love you !!!


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